The Good Girl
by Lapis Love
Summary: Formerly titled Eyes Wide Open. The devil's greatest trick was convincing the world he doesn't exist, so Bonnie finds it hard to believe a word that comes out of Damon Salvatore's mouth, and his mouth is always busy. Yet she learns quickly the meaning of keeping it in the family. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm back at it again. I might have a small form of ADHD or I just love writing. But this goes out to Wowzersduh because we've had lengthy discussions about this lol. I'm not sure I will continue this and I'm not saying that to get reviews, but just that my writing schedule is already grueling, and I might not be able to update as frequently, but I just wanted to put this out there.**

**Special disclaimer: This involves subject matter I typically don't write about because it's taboo. And the starring characters maybe OOC from time to time because this is also AU, no supernatural anything. Thanks for reading!**

Disclaimer: Not my characters. They belong to LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Catalina Island, California **

Cash ruled everything around him, and trust he was using his money and overbearing good looks to his advantage. Sprawled out on the humongous day bed flipping through a worn copy of Shakespeare's _Tempest _Damon Salvatore licked a finger and turned the page although he had one eye plastered on the slim woman who was admiring her physique in the mirror.

"What do you think of this one?"

Damon put the book down on his chest and leisurely ran his eyes over his companion. "You look like a high class hooker that swallows," he said brutally and then grinned wolfishly. "I like it."

Katherine Pierce-Salvatore rolled her eyes and turned back around to face the mirror. The Marchesa dress was short, tight, lacy, and blinged out just the way she preferred all her cocktail dresses. Flipping a long strand of wavy chocolate hair over her shoulder, she turned to the side, admired how great her breasts looked before facing forward again. There were many things in life that Katherine loved: sex, money, bags and shoes, but what she loved above all was the young man lounging on her bed.

There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for Damon. He was her heart, her soul, the blood that flowed through her veins. He was the Ying to her Yang, her missing twin, her doppelganger. They were so alike that it came as no surprise they constantly butted heads but then conspired together like Russian spies. She pouted inwardly. Too bad she was his adopted sister and nothing could ever come of their taboo ways.

Katherine liked pushing Damon's buttons. As much as she may have loved him, he was her weakness, her cancer. No matter how many of her plans he foiled time after time again only to laugh at her expense, she found it almost impossible to stay mad at him. He had some kind of hold over her and it probably had everything to do with his powder blue eyes, jet black hair, and tight physique. Some already speculated they had something of an incestuous relationship going on. They didn't. They said things to one another filled with innuendo alluding to the fact they may have done more than tickle each other under the sheets when they were younger. Both were guilty of flirty and inappropriate touching, but Katherine could say with a clear conscious she never smashed her younger brother.

However, Katherine was very much aware of the hold she had over Damon, too. He may have tried to act like the overprotective little brother whenever she brought home a new boyfriend, which happened to be every few months or so. But Katherine knew his actions were fueled by jealousy and lust. Damon couldn't stand for another guy to touch her, to kiss her, to lavish her with expensive gifts and cart her around the world on exclusive trips. The both of them lived a very privileged and private lifestyle that many dreamed of and plenty more coveted. Yet those on the outside looking in didn't understand it was hard work being the kid of a wealthy parent.

Sure they might make it look easy and seamless, but they were reared in a very strict atmosphere because Giuseppe Salvatore didn't play that. He was in the ship manufacturing business building yachts for the rich and famous, and constructing fighter ships and submarines for the US Navy. Some likened him to be a modern-day Howard Hughes or Tony Stark come to life because he also dabbled in planes and weapons manufacturing as well. It was these lucrative business ventures that afforded him the opportunity to buy and build sprawling estates on four different continents.

That being said, Giuseppe sent Damon and Katherine to the best boarding schools the world had to offer. They each learned how to write and speak six languages fluently. Katherine played the piano proficiently, even entertained the President at the tender age of ten. Damon was versed in playing the drums, piano, and the electric guitar, but they've both left those talents behind and delved head first into the depravity that came with living in the lap of luxury with few rules and very little order.

As long as they kept the pretense up of being well-behaved, intelligent, groomed children, Giuseppe didn't care what they did so long as their antics never ended up in the papers or on magazine covers.

But now their every move was being followed by the paparazzi because Giuseppe Salvatore was getting married—again.

Marriage number three. Call her cynical but Katherine was sure that wifey number three would be out the door in half the time he was married to wife number two. In Katherine's opinion, her mom was the first and only love of Giuseppe's life. Isobel Gilbert was her maiden name. Isobel came from a good family the only stain on her impeccable resume being she was knocked up with someone else's kid at the time of her courtship with the rising entrepreneur. Giuseppe didn't care about that. He married Isobel after three months of dating, adopted Katherine as his own the minute she was born and they lived in happy bliss until Isobel was killed in a car accident a year later.

Giuseppe proved to be a resilient man and didn't mourn his wife's death for long. He found himself bitten by the love bug again and married Marguerite Lockwood—Damon's mom. Their marriage lasted ten years before Marguerite filed for a divorce because she couldn't handle the long hours Giuseppe worked abandoning her with two kids, and of course his numerous affairs.

So Katherine figured she would just bide her time and placate Giuseppe and his incoming wife, however, this time around things felt different.

Giuseppe seemed happier, giddy almost, as if he really were in love. Katherine and Damon had only met their soon to be step-mom a handful of times despite the fact Giuseppe and had known his future bride for years, at least according to him. Additionally, what made Katherine leery about this situation was the fact her new mom was coming with more than her clothes and personal effects, she would also be bringing her sixteen year old daughter with her.

Katherine was used to being the only female who ruled this house, so having to share power with two other females was seriously rubbing her the wrong way. She had Giuseppe wrapped around her finger. If she asked to own a share of all his businesses, he would draw up the paperwork the very next day. She had Damon sniffing after and though he took longer than most to give in to her demands, he usually did. She wasn't sure what kind of pull the new mother/daughter pair might have over her men, Katherine was determined they would have very little.

"You look constipated, Kat, what's going on in that diabolical brain of yours?" Damon asked.

She pivoted on the balls of her feet, walked seductively to the edge of the bed and crawled across it to sit directly on Damon's lap.

"I'm selfish, you know that," she purred, leaned over him while sliding a hand up his muscled chest and flicked the tip of his nose with hers. Damon for his part folded his arms behind his head.

"Hmm," he answered in a non-committal fashion.

"You know I _hate _competition of any kind."

Damon yawned hoping she'd get to the point and get off of him before he embarrassed them both.

"You're point, Kat? I'm aging over here."

She rolled her whiskey brown eyes and sat up. "What do we really know about our incoming Mommy Dearest and her brat?"

A crease formed between Damon's brows. He never made it his business to get mixed up in his dad's affairs. Who the old man was screwing was his business and his business alone, but Damon was astute to figure out that Katherine was feeling threatened and this was her way of making sure he was on her side, that he would continue to be a loyal subject in her court.

"Other than the fact Dad loves her…not much. She seemed nice enough the few times we met her."

An undignified noise sounded in the back of Katherine's throat. "I could careless if she mimicked Mother Theresa. I need dirt."

"And just what do you think scraping up dirt is going to do? Once Giuseppe Salvatore has his mind made up about something you can forget about changing it. Take solace in the fact that he won't be married for more than a year. You can keep your inner bitch locked up for that amount of time can't you?'

In response to his question, Katherine kneed Damon in the balls and rolled off of him. "Does that answer your stupid ass question? Get out."

Cupping himself and groaning, Damon shot Katherine the bird. "Evil whore," he spat.

"Flaccid dick," she retaliated and fluffed out her hair. Katherine reached for the zipper, lowered it and stepped out of the dress wearing nothing more than a barely there pair of undies. Damon's eyes widened for a bit before he diverted his attention elsewhere. That girl really had no shame sometimes.

Katherine slid another outrageously priced dress over her curves, the Egyptian silk teasing her skin sending shivers up her spine as she fashioned it into place. She purred again, wet her bottom lip with her tongue and knew without a doubt _this _would be the dress she'd wear to her adoptive father's engagement party tonight.

Damon eyed her from across the room, felt a little action taking place in his pants and figured now was as good a time as any to get missing. Besides his weed man was stopping by and he'd need to get a little high to make it through another insipid party with overbearingly pretentious assholes who behaved as if they had class but were solely mistaken.

Rolling off the bed and approaching Katherine he stood behind her. Their eyes caught in the mirror, and Katherine reached backwards to tunnel her French manicured fingers through his black hair.

"You mean the world to me, Damon."

"Don't go and get sentimental on me now after you tried to unman me."

She smirked. "Stop reading that Shakespeare garbage before I start to question your sexuality."

Damon kissed her neck and strolled over to the door. "Trust me when I say I'm strictly pussy. Want me to prove it? I'll be f*cking one of your little airhead girlfriends by the end of the night."

Katherine turned sideways to face him. "Trying to make me jealous or horny?"

He winked at her. "I'll let you decide."

Damon left her room and strolled to his wing of the house. He swept past the tapestry covered walls, the painted ceilings when his cell phone buzzed in his back pocket. Retrieving the device he grinned and answered the phone.

"Yes?"

A soft feline voice tickled his eardrums. "I'm wet"

His grin began to mimic that of a shark. "And what would you like me to do about that?" Damon pushed open one of the double wooden doors that led to his room. He bounded up a short flight of stairs and made a sharp right, strolling into his sanctuary. His room was spacious enough to be considered a living room. It had a vaulted wood beam ceiling, an open floor plan, expensive furnishings, every single high tech and electronic device known to mankind, but his pride and joy was his custom made bed that slept six easily.

Kennedy Burkin, his flavor of the season, was what Damon liked to refer to as his muscle relaxant. He had met her at one of his dad's business associates birthday parties about three months ago. Kennedy had been draped in chiffon and diamonds, looking bored out of her mind. She had café au lait skin, jet black hair, pale green eyes, and a sensual mouth he spent the rest of the night kissing while she gave certain body parts of his a tongue bath.

He shivered even now in memory as he walked over to his long, imposing mahogany desk where he proceeded to log into his system. Once he was waiting for his Mac to boot up, Damon took a seat in his leather executive style chair and propped his feet on the desk. He rubbed his hardening member through his jeans almost absently.

"I want you to come over here and towel me dry of course. I just got out of the pool."

"You're my date to my dad's engagement party. I'll see you soon enough."

Damon imagined she was pouting prettily. Wetting that full bottom lip with a pink tongue before biting down on it. He cleared his throat.

"You're not being fair, Damon. Any time you want to see me I drop what I'm doing so I can drop to my knees the minute I see you. I think it's only right for you to return the favor."

Damon ignored her taunt as he opened up a secured personal file. After a few more clicks an image popped up on his screen. He shifted a bit in his chair as his eyes devoured the image of a young woman stepping out of a swimming pool wearing a modest two piece pink and white polka dot bikini. Her head was angled towards the sun, eyes closed, chocolate hair pushed back from her face. It was hard to believe, just from looking at her body she was only sixteen. She had a nice sized rack, thick thighs, a firm tight ass, sculpted calves, and though he couldn't really see her feet, he knew they were suckable.

"Damon!" Kennedy shouted in his ear.

"What?" he snapped in response because she interrupted his budding fantasy.

"Can I see you before the party or not?"

He hesitated. "My dad is calling on my other line," he lied. "I'll have to get back to you, but more than likely I won't be able to escape."

Kennedy sighed heavily, accepting defeat. "Fine. What designer are you wearing? I want to match."

This was the part of Kennedy he didn't like. When she would try to augment what they were doing to relationship status. She was a booty call and nothing more. His jump off. Kennedy, like many of his conquests came from the same kind of background as him. Rich parents, privileged life, low morals and ethics, but he was bored with that.

"I haven't decided, but I know whoever you choose to wear you will look amazing. I have to go, Kennedy. See you tonight."

"Tonight," she breathed seductively into the phone. "Bye, Damon."

He hung up his cell and just sat there staring at the picture of his soon-to-be step-sister.

* * *

"Stop biting your nails," Abby Bennett chastised her only child. She and her daughter were being escorted via Maybach to their new dwellings. Their actual belongings would be arriving within the week, but Giuseppe had hired personal shoppers to get them both closets full of clothing until their things arrived.

Bonnie stuck her hands in her lap. Her knee began to jump. She wasn't worried so much about seeing Giuseppe. She had known him for years, and genuinely liked him. He sometimes took her and her mom out on joined dates whenever he popped up in boring Mystic Falls, Virginia. He was the father she always wanted, so her nerves had nothing to do with moving under his roof, making things official, it had everything to do with meeting his children. All her life she had been an only child so with just one ceremony she would have a father, sister, brother. Part of her was excited but then a much larger part of her was filled with anxiety.

What if they hated her? What if she hated them? She wanted her mom to be happy, but…Bonnie was already feeling as if she were being left out in the cold.

Abby never said it but it had always been implied that Katherine and Damon Salvatore were standoffish, elitist snobs. Abby figured that when she was forced to socialize with them they secretly made fun of her despite the fact they behaved perfectly nice, and treated her in a respectful manner. However, she was no fool. If Katherine could get away with pushing her down a flight of stairs, she would have done it a long time ago. Damon was a little tougher to figure out. He only spoke when spoken to, and then sometimes he would make a sarcastic or rude comment, but other than that he had never been malicious. It was Katherine Abby didn't trust, and Katherine she wanted to keep her daughter from. However, that would be next to impossible since she was marrying the girl's adoptive father and they would be living under the same roof. So that would make avoidance nearly impossible, although Giuseppe's house on Catalina Island was more like a fortress offering fourteen bedrooms, a slew of bathrooms, dens, a library, industrial sized kitchen, a tennis court, swimming pool, guest house, basketball court, the amenities were endless.

Placing her hand on top of her daughter's, Abby offered Bonnie a comforting smile. She knew she was making the right decision in marrying Giuseppe. She loved and would be securing a future for her daughter, giving Bonnie the kind of life she should have had since birth. But circumstances far beyond both of their control had limited Bonnie's childhood.

"Everything will be fine. Giuseppe loves you and he would never let anything bad happen to you, okay? You have nothing to be worried about."

"But, mom I've heard stories, rumors about Katherine and Damon. And they aren't good."

"Rumors weren't meant to be good, Bonnie, and I've always told you to judge a situation for yourself and not base your opinion off of hearsay. Blending families together isn't always easy, but we'll try. Just give things a chance."

Bonnie offered her mom a placatory smile before directing her attention back out the window. The scenery was absolutely beautiful but she couldn't concentrate on the grandeur to save her life. All that kept nagging her was the fact that in less than twenty minutes she would be facing the family she would become apart of. She had every reason in the world to be happy, but she couldn't make herself feel happy.

"I don't want them to think I'm trying to take over their lives or steal their dad away," Bonnie mumbled a little while later, still looking out the window.

"They won't because I didn't raise you that way. Look, money does have a way of changing people, and no matter what happens in my marriage to Giuseppe, you and I will always be two simple women from the south. Understand?"

"Yes, Mama."

The car was now at a private gate. The driver punched in a security code and moments later the wrought iron gates parted and the car was winding up a cobblestone driveway.

Giuseppe Salvatore stood outside raven-haired, blue-eyed dressed in a tan linen suit with his white shirt open at the collar. He was joined by two sullen looking teenagers dressed in their "casual" clothing of Katherine in an expensive dress from her favorite boutique Kitson, and Damon wearing all black Versace.

"Put smiles on your faces, damn it," Giuseppe said through tight lips.

"You said to show up you didn't say anything about smiling," Katherine was quick to remind him.

The Maybach looped around the circular drive, and the chauffeur was quick to get out and open up the back passenger door. Abby climbed out first offering her fiancé a brilliant, dazzling smile that made him puff his chest out a little more. Abby was unlike any other woman he dated, married, or f*cked. She was a tender woman with a steel spine, and beautiful with sun kissed skin, thick wavy chocolate hair, and piercing dark green eyes.

He approached her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. His eyes then sauntered over to the slightly frightened young woman who was pulling down the ruffled hem of her summer dress. Bonnie was the splitting image of her mom, except her eyes were a bright green embedded in a heart shaped face. Giuseppe pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek, he mumbled in her ear:

"Relax. They know what will happen to them if they get out of line."

Bonnie nodded her head wishing his words had the added effect of making her feel at ease. Instead, her anxiety shot up another notch. But she forced herself to make eye contact with her future step siblings.

Katherine was just as Bonnie expected. She had HBIC written across her olive toned forehead. Her brown eyes were sharp like a double-edged sword and her entire posture reeked of conceit. The smile on her face was not welcoming in the least, but Bonnie refused to be intimidated by the long-haired girl who knew she was beautiful and sensual and used that to her every advantage.

Bonnie then brought her eyes over to Damon. He was handsome, chillingly so. It was hard to believe he was only seventeen. His eyes reminded her of the rarest form of topaz; they were just that blue. His gaze, like Katherine's was intense and sharp. His well-formed mauve lips were quirked into a smirk. His midnight black hair was in disarray as if he styled it that way on purpose. It did little to distract from how hot he was.

She cleared her throat and looked away because she felt like she was being burned by his gaze.

Giuseppe waved them towards the front door, unfortunately drawing Bonnie closer to last two people she wanted to be around. If they had their say, they would not be making the transition easy for her. Her mom had told her plenty of times that Giuseppe kept his children on tight leashes. That would remain to be seen.

"Katherine…Damon…say hello to your new sister. Bonnie, my daughter Katherine and my son, Damon."

Bonnie reached out to shake Katherine's hand first wanting to get it over with. Katherine's grip was loose as if Bonnie just wiped her ass with her bare hand. She ignored it and then offered Damon the same hand.

He didn't shake it. He kissed her knuckles maintaining eye contact with her the whole while. He said something to her in Italian?…Greek?…Spanish?…she wasn't sure.

Katherine's nostrils flared. She folded her arms over her chest and looked away.

Giuseppe snapped something to Damon in the same gibberish she didn't understand.

Bonnie blushed although she wasn't sure that was the right response. "Nice to meet you," she said to them both.

Giuseppe glared at Katherine sending her a silent message to fix her attitude or run the risk of being cut off. Inwardly, Damon laughed and then kissed Abby's hand as well, only he greeted her in regular ole English.

"Pleasure to see you again, Abby."

"Likewise, Damon."

"Let's take this inside," Giuseppe suggested. He turned back to the driver. "George, take their bags up to their rooms, please."

"Yes, Mr. Salvatore."

Katherine retreated inside first followed by Giuseppe and Abby who walked hand-in-hand. Damon extended his arm out to Bonnie. Tentatively she accepted it as they walked through the grand foyer of the Salvatore estate. The others were far ahead of them.

Bonnie looked up at her future step-brother. "What did you say to me?"

A lopsided grin formed on his face causing her heart to beat nervously as he bored his eyes into hers. "I said 'you're a rose without a thorn."

Bonnie didn't believe him but left it at that.

Damon didn't say that at all and if she ever decided to Google what he actually did say, she'd probably try to take a meat tenderizer to his dick.

TBC

**A/N: I like to push the envelope when it comes to story telling. Whenever I update again, anything will be liable to happen. I want to keep things classy but that might not happen. But thanks for stopping by and showing this puppy some love. And in case you're curious, no Stefan and Damon won't be brothers in this. Or they might be half-brothers. I don't have all the particulars worked out with this story. But again, thanks for reading. Love you guys! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sooorrrryyy for the long wait for an update! I fought with this chapter many times. You might want to reread the first chapter to get the gist of what's going on because this is the follow-up. And of course I have to say a thousand times THANK YOU to everyone who left a review, added to your lists, and read! Thank you, thank you! And as many of you have speculated this is inspired by Cruel Intentions (one of my favorite movies) but will be loosely, and I do mean loosely based on it. I won't be following that storyline to the letter. Now on with the show. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Giuseppe Salvatore was a risk taker cutthroat money-maker. From the time he turned ten years old he learned the importance of the dollar bill and how to hustle. From selling newspapers on street corners, hot dogs at baseball games, to running numbers for real mobsters in high school. He kept his mouth shut, his eyes open, and his hearing turned to everything.

When his grandfather Sebastian Giovanni Salvatore VII died with no living son, all of his wealth went to his eldest grandchild. Ca-_ching_! Giuseppe went from living a lower middle class lifestyle to the life of the rich and famous. He paid his way into the ivy leagues getting a top rate education at Yale, excelling at his studies, making a name for himself in the engineering field.

Upon graduating with honors and quickly enrolling in Wharton School of Business, Giuseppe became one of the most formidable minds of the twentieth century, and as such opened one prosperous business after another.

But not only was he business savvy, and shrewd with money he was also a notorious womanizer. An equal opportunity bed hopper. He did not discriminate. The saying used to be: if you haven't taken a ride on Giuseppe Salvatore then you haven't gone anywhere. He wasn't called the Italian Stallion for no reason.

Giuseppe wouldn't consider women as his weakness, his kryptonite. He had always been good about weeding out those who were power hungry gold diggers looking for the next big mogul to come and rescue them from the trailer park. Those types he stayed clear from. They might have been fun to dally with in pay-by-the-hour motels, but not women he wanted to turn into a housewife or the mother of his kids.

He met his first wife Isobel at twenty-five. She came from a polished background but had a thrilling and explosive side to her personality that made their courtship seem like a whirlwind. Within weeks of dating, Isobel had captured Giuseppe's heart and introduced him to a culture he typically would have abstained from. He learned about art, classical music, and how to select the proper wine for dinner. Isobel was exactly the kind of woman he needed to compliment his business prowess, so marrying her was a no brainer for him.

Of course the only slightly downer was, Isobel had been pregnant with another man's child, but Giuseppe didn't care about that. He loved her, wanted to build an empire with her, and that's what he sat out to do. When Katherine was born and he took one look at her sweet, cherub face, he fell in love again and vowed to be the father his never was to him. But for as sweet and knowledgeable Isobel was about the world, she had been selfish and self-centered, traits she unfortunately passed down to her daughter.

Isobel was without a doubt his first love, but Giuseppe wouldn't label her as being his true love. He mourned her death by enshrining himself in his work, building his empire, looking after Katherine the best way he knew how. He wouldn't consider himself a cold man by any means. But he grew up in a household with a very demanding and domineering father who died of a heart attack at the tender age of fifty-two. Gentleness and sensitivity were not attributes that were beaten into Giuseppe which made him a hard man to relate to at times. So to those standing on the outside looking in who thought that Isobel's sudden death didn't faze him were gravely mistaken.

People just had different ways of coping with death. And Giuseppe's way wasn't sitting around the house feeling sorry for himself, but about being proactive, and moving forward. Besides, he mourned her death in the privacy of his bedroom late at night after Katherine had gone to bed.

So when he met his second wife, Marguerite "Margie" Lockwood she had been the kind of woman he wanted to raise his children. She wasn't exotic or daring like Isobel had been. She was feisty, liked being in control, but had her submissive side as well. He took his time getting to know her, and after a year of dating he proposed. A year and a half later Damon was born, the business took off, and that's where things began to deteriorate between them.

Marguerite came from a household where her father was an active participant in her life. Both of her parents worked and shared the responsibility of the household, not all one thing was dumped on one person. She had been fine being a stay-at-home with Katherine and Damon, but when the call to return to work came surging back, she and Giuseppe butted heads like rams. He liked knowing that his children were being looked after by his wife and not some stranger. Giuseppe hadn't grown up with maids and nannies. His mother reared him and he wanted the same for his offspring. Marguerite humored him for as long as she could stand, but her resentment of him and his trailblazing career became a noxious acid between them.

No matter what he did he couldn't satisfy her. And when Margie cut him off intimately, Giuseppe had the grounds for being granted a divorce, but he wanted to make things work. Unfortunately he started stepping out because he was an attractive virile male at the prime of his life. Women flocked to him and he chose his pieces very carefully. If Margie had a problem with it, she had the power to put a stop to it, but she didn't.

Nevertheless when word got back to Margie as it often did, she took his ass to the cleaners in divorce court. At first Margie had wanted full custody of Damon, but Giuseppe was adamant that his son would remain with him, so the judge awarded them joint custody. Damon lived with Margie for one half of the year and Giuseppe the other half.

Now his son was living with him full-time because Damon proved to be too much for Margie to handle on her own.

Damon was his pride and joy. Yes, the boy drove him nuts. He wanted to kill Damon more than hug him for doing well in school and excelling at his extracurricular activities, but Giuseppe had caused his father the same frustrations and figured he was getting his just due.

Moreover, Giuseppe was not one of those naïve parents who believed their children could do no wrong, and if they did make a mistake it was because of peer pressure. He knew Damon and Katherine were menaces and purposely caused havoc in peoples lives for their own amusement. He lost track of the number of checks he had to write to people to keep their butts out of small claims court. They were slowly but surely driving him insane.

So when Giuseppe met Abby Bennett after stumbling into her holistic store in po-dunk Mystic Falls, Virginia, there was something about her quiet spirit that drew him in. She was like taking in oxygen after being submerged in water. It went without saying she was much different from the plastic Barbie dolls he usually paraded on his arms to lavish dinners and award shows, and that was probably his biggest attraction to Abby. She was normal, down-to-earth, and an entrepreneur. Like him.

At first she wanted nothing to do with him. Had stereotyped him as being a playboy who threw his money around to get his way, and only dated outside of his race because it was taboo. What Abby failed to realize about Giuseppe was he rarely followed the rules and could really give a damn about what anyone had to say about his life. As a result, he may have resorted to stalking Abby until he wore her down. Their courtship proved to be the most challenging because of the long distance, and preconceived notions that each had to overcome.

Giuseppe conducted most of his business in California and internationally. And for as many times as he tried to entice Abby with trips around the world, visiting all the places she shared she wanted to see, Abby wouldn't budge because she had one huge responsibility she couldn't and wouldn't leave behind just to fulfill some teenaged fantasy.

Her daughter.

The first time Giuseppe met Bonnie he could tell she was a special girl. She grew up without a father and only had her mother and grandmother as family. She didn't open up to people right away, and as vulnerable as she appeared on the outside, on the inside she was tough as steel. Giuseppe could admit to being clueless on how to relate to Bonnie.

On the surface they had nothing in common, no common ground, and the things which interested her, Giuseppe had no knowledge about. So it was tough getting to know her, but then one night she opened up about her love for marine biology and Giuseppe took that as his opening because his technology company was manufacturing a new submarine to improve deep sea exploring.

They were nerds at heart on top of being ridiculously good-looking if he could say so himself, and from that conversation things turned around completely between them. Giuseppe managed to wedge himself into her life becoming Bonnie's mentor, encouraging her to participate in rigorous science camps, and putting herself out there intellectually. And it didn't take long for him to view Bonnie as his daughter.

So here he was about to embark on his third marriage knowing the naysayers had already stared a pool on how long it would last. Someone else in his position might be embarrassed, but Giuseppe wasn't because he had no reason to be. His first wife died, the second left because she was unhappy and he certainly wasn't going to hold her back. Staring 50 in the face, Giuseppe felt he was finally getting things right, had found the correct rhythm, and had chosen a woman who complimented him on all levels instead of a few.

That being said he could only hope the transition of blending his future life with his current one would be seamless.

Giuseppe directed the group to the solarium where a lunch had been prepared. Bonnie's eyes had been darting all over the place while her lips were in a perpetual shape of an O. He purposely held off introducing Bonnie to his kids and his home because he wanted to be absolutely certain that the lifestyle he was presenting to her mother was one Abby wanted to accept. There wouldn't have been a need to get Bonnie attached to something only to yank it away because things hadn't worked out between himself and her mother.

But Abby was wearing his ring. Their wedding date was set and vastly approaching, so it was long overdue Bonnie get to know the rest of the Salvatore brood, and to start enjoying her future life.

So far things between everyone had been tentative and polite at best, but Giuseppe figured Katherine wanted to scratch someone's eyes out, and Damon was making it no secret that he wanted to see Bonnie naked. Inwardly he sighed. Damon was brilliant but chose to think with the head in his pants more than the one lodged on his shoulders—more often than not.

Damon jumped at the chance to pull out Bonnie's chair that way he could get a better look at her ass. Quickly she flashed her jade colored eyes up at him and mumbled thanks. He took the napkin that had been cleverly folded on her salad plate and offered to place it in her lap, but Bonnie snatched it from him and did it herself.

Katherine watched their exchange like a hawk. She knew her brother. She knew all the signs he broadcast when he had pussy on the mind and right now he wanted Bonnie's. She ground her molars on top of one another and when their eyes caught across the table, she threw a smile at Damon as if it were a poison tipped dagger.

He returned her gesture prior to reaching for the Waterford crystal flute. He kept his cerulean eyes glued on her and took a sip of his mimosa. Damon deliberately licked his top and bottom lip, his eyes narrowing at the corners.

Bonnie's gaze volleyed between the brother/sister pair and didn't know what to make of it. If she didn't know they were siblings—by marriage—she would have thought they were exes. Her stomach started rumbling because they were shamelessly and unabashedly having eye-sex with one another.

Damon and Katherine's behavior was nothing new to Abby. She instead kept her eyes plastered on her daughter and winced at the myriad of emotions that traipsed over Bonnie's face. If Bonnie could be anywhere on the planet than stuck in this house, she would be.

Four serves came from some part of the house with plates balanced on their fingertips. Bonnie's eyes fell to the table as she eyed the soup she was given. There was what appeared to be a small crab cake in the center of it with mint leaves on top.

Giuseppe opened up the dialogue. "How was your flight? Not too much turbulence."

"No," Abby replied. "I could definitely tell the difference between riding commercial and private."

Katherine curled her lip upon hearing that but otherwise kept her lips glued shut.

"We could have flown commercial," Bonnie interjected. "You didn't have to inconvenience your pilots for us."

"Nonsense, Bonnie. There was no way I was going to permit my future wife and daughter to be felt up by some irritated TSA worker. I fly private everywhere I go so it would only be fitting that you two do as well."

"So that wasn't your first time flying period?" Katherine asked as if she really were interested in the conversation currently taking place.

Bonnie didn't like the implication of the question. "I have flown before. My Grams and I flew to Hawaii two years ago for a vacation. I had a good time."

"How sweet traveling with one's ailing grandmother."

Bonnie's eyes narrowed. Abby knew that Bonnie was about to mouth off because she was extremely protective of her grandmother, and Sheila was no frail woman who was two minutes from ending up in a home. She had spunk and probably more energy than Bonnie and Abby put together.

"Don't be rude, Katherine," Damon chastised his sister. "If you hadn't given your grandmother's boyfriend a hand job I'm sure she would take you on trips with her, too."

"Damon!" Giuseppe warned brusquely.

Bonnie had heard enough and was ready to be excused. Her mind was now being bombarded with images of an eighteen year old Katherine with an eighty year old man. Disgusting.

"Mom…can I be excused? I'm feeling kind of tired and we have a long night ahead of us."

"Sure, sweetie."

"Oh, but you haven't finished lunch," Katherine pointed out uselessly. She smiled prettily at Bonnie who rolled her eyes.

Bonnie rose from the table and Damon did as well. She looked at him askance.

"I can show you to your room," he offered.

She really didn't want to be anywhere near Damon since he was the one to bring up hand jobs at the dinner table. How Giuseppe didn't have a head full of white hair was one the great mysteries of the world.

Bonnie didn't say anything to Damon but stepped away from the table.

"I should go with them…give my future sister a mini-tour of the house," Katherine slapped her napkin on the table and was about to rise from her seat when Giuseppe's voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Sit down and eat, Katherine. Don't move from this table until _all _your plates are clean. Damon!" Giuseppe bellowed.

Damon halted his forward progress and swung back around to face his father.

"Behave yourself."

The smile Damon cast his father was nothing short of wolfish. Inwardly, Giuseppe sighed but then quickly turned his attention to Abby who looked ready to pepper spray his son. He reached for her hand, linked their fingers together before bringing it up to kiss.

Alone with Damon, Bonnie couldn't help but feel self-conscious. She hadn't spent a great deal of time around guys, at least not guys who looked like European models or creations of Michelangelo come to life. She cleared her throat and instead focused her attention on the tapestries and frescos that decorated the humongous walls. The inside of the sprawling estate reminded Bonnie of a 17th century Italian villa. It was airy and open but also heavily decorated with pieces from the Renaissance.

Bonnie had studied a little bit of art history at her old high school and she could easily identify some of the great artists from the Baroque movement.

"Are these original oil paintings?" Bonnie asked aloud which she meant to internalize the question.

Damon, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, nodded his head and stopped in front of a painting by Roman artist Francesco Trevisiani.

"Some of them are originals the others are prints. But this right here…"

"_Apollo and Daphne_," Bonnie filled in.

"You know the painting?"

She nodded.

"Do you know the story?"

When Bonnie tore her eyes away from the image of the god of the sun chasing the nymph Daphne, she realized that Damon was practically standing on top of her. His powder blue eyes were simply burning through the impenetrable barriers she had erected and for good reason. A girl with low morals and a drop of self-esteem would probably already be on her back surrendering the panties to him.

Bonnie cleared her throat and stepped away from Damon. He was trying to infect her and get into her head, lower her defenses with the way he looked, the way he smelled, and the way he spoke, soft and slightly seductive.

"I know the story," she replied disinterestedly and continued down the hall.

A smirk appeared on Damon's face and he allowed Bonnie to get several paces away from him before he continued pursuing her.

Girls like Bonnie, he was used to encountering them. In the beginning they all pretended to have high standards and morals and acted unimpressed with the gifts he could bestow upon them and the places he could take them, but they all fell in line at the end no matter what. Damon hadn't exactly made up his mind what it was he wanted from Bonnie, besides the obvious. Once again, his eyes fell to below her waistline to admire the seductive jiggle of her ass. It was so ripe like a melon and he was overcome with the sudden urge to bite it.

She would maim him good for that. It went without saying.

Bonnie couldn't escape the feeling that she was walking with a huge target painted on her back. But she did her best to ignore him.

"So you're sixteen, right?" he asked.

Bonnie briefly looked at him. "Yep, I'm jailbait."

He chuckled. "So am I. I don't turn eighteen for another three months."

"Good for you."

"You don't like me do you?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I don't really know you to say whether I like you one way or another."

Damon shrugged. "Fair enough. I think I'm a nice, likeable guy."

"I'm sure you are, Damon to some naïve and gullible people out there."

He touched her again, this time on her shoulder, halting her progress down the hall. Bonnie tensed and made herself look up at him again. She could clearly see she was providing him with some kind of sick and twisted entertainment and if there was one thing Bonnie detested was being the butt of some joke. Especially when she didn't know what the punch line was. Her mother had pleaded with her to give Katherine and Damon a chance, and she would. At the same time, Bonnie also wanted to keep them at arm's length until they proved they could be trusted and was above reproach.

People in hell wanted ice water so Bonnie was sure someone wasn't going to get their wish.

"Why do I get the impression that you've already tried, sentenced, and executed my character? Has someone been filling your head with all sorts of nasty tales about me?"

Bonnie didn't answer right away. She merely folded her arms under her breasts and pursed her lips together. The air between them began to coagulate with something that made her equally drawn and repulsed by Damon.

She sighed. "I try to judge people for myself and not based off of someone else's opinion. All of this," Bonnie made a vague motion with her hand to encompass the area around them. "I'm not used to this. My life was simple, you know. It was just me, my mom, and my Grams. The Trinity is what we called ourselves and we lived in a tight-knit community where everyone knew everyone."

"This is a tight-knit community, too," Damon said.

Bonnie snorted. "Yeah, where everyone is a multi-millionaire."

Damon couldn't really refute that so he didn't. "Believe it or not I want to be your friend, Bonnie."

Her face remained impassive. Damon continued. "But this whole friendship thing works both ways."

"I know."

They were silent for a while and when it became more than obvious that Bonnie wasn't going to further elaborate or say that she was willing to give having a friendship with Damon a try, he figured it was time to continue on and show her, her digs.

"Well, we should carry on. There's still lots to see."

He continued walking and Bonnie reluctantly fell in step beside him. She was curious about where his bedroom was since in this part of the house was nothing but an art gallery of sorts. They had passed some closed doors and she curious to know what was behind them, yet Bonnie would save her snooping for later and when she was alone.

She and Damon had come to the end of the hall before he lightly touched her on the elbow to direct where to go next.

They made a left and then a few short paces later, they came to a set of gilded double doors.

Damon pressed his hand along the seal and pushed. "Welcome to your suite, madam."

Her jaw dropped. It just couldn't be avoided. "Oh, God," Bonnie whispered as she looked around the palatial suite that would be her bedroom. An incredulous giggle escaped as her eyes went first to the twenty foot tall ceiling that of course was painted with an angelic themed mirage. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room where drapes of delicate salmon colored chiffon stretched to all four corners of the room.

The bed was definitely from the Renaissance period, gilded and king in size with a gold and pink décolletage duvet, body sized pillows, and a massive headboard. The pink and gold theme trickled throughout the room in expensive lamps and furnishings.

Damon kept careful watch of Bonnie's face as she ran curious fingers over the granite top of her desk and the matching French provincial chair.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

A laugh escaped and when she brought those viridian eyes back to Damon, he saw mirth and awe dancing in her orbs. She looked younger, lighter, friendlier.

"It's beautiful. Not really my style" she said. "You can fit my entire house inside this room."

Bonnie's suite came to about fifteen hundred square foot of space. Adjacent to her bed was a pair of sliding glass doors which led to her own private veranda that was large enough for her to entertain a small group of friends without anyone feeling as if they were being canned in like sardines. She hadn't laid eyes on the bathroom yet which was basically a blast from ancient Rome past. It held a glass dome ceiling with a dome shaped whirlpool in the middle of the room inlaid in the marble floor. And if taking luxurious baths wasn't her thing, she could utilize the steam shower.

"Take off your clothes."

Bonnie spun around so fast that her hair slapped her face. She scowled at him, almost murderously. "_Excuse _me?"

Damon ignored the growl to her voice and walked over to the large bureau. He opened up one of the drawers, and rifled around until he found whatever it was he was looking for. Bonnie fully expected to see some trashy lingerie dangling from his hands but instead she was presented with a polka dot two piece bikini.

"You didn't let me finish. There's a Jacuzzi on the patio just outside of those doors," Damon pointed at said doors. "The stream from the jets will help you to relax before tonight."

Bonnie's cheeks flushed and she lowered her eyes to her feet for a minute as she tried to control the pounding of her heart. "I'll just have a shower instead," she nearly whispered feeling somewhat chastised although she hadn't been.

Just the thought alone of Bonnie standing under the shower head, naked was enough of a tease to make an erection spring to life in his trousers. With the simple flick of his wrist, the bikini went sailing to the bed. Damon cleared his throat.

"I should show you the closet before I go. The guests usually start arriving for these tedious affairs around nine. However, I don't show up until I'm at least half-assed drunk," Damon threw a sarcastic smile at her.

"Your father allows you to drink?"

"If you're good and don't bring shame to the Salvatore family name, Daddy will let you getaway with murder," Damon wiggled his eyebrows and threw open the doors of Bonnie's walk in closet.

Tentatively she crossed the room and stood under the threshold while Damon snapped on the light. Her eyes ballooned once again as she saw nothing but row after row of designer pieces, and racks of shoes some too dangerous looking for her to even think about skipping around in. Bonnie was certain only celebrity closets and exclusive boutiques looked like this. It was hard for her to compute that this all belonged to her or at the very least, all of this was being loaned to her. Ideally she knew this was her new home now, but Bonnie couldn't escape feeling like a visitor.

This wasn't her world or her lifestyle. Bonnie lived in a single-family home that had two bedrooms and two point five bathrooms. Sometimes her shower would spurt water into her face, and then when it felt like behaving she could get that wonderful spa effect. All of her furniture had been purchased at flea markets and Target, and when her mom felt like splurging The Room Store. Her clothes were compliments of Forever 21, Charlotte Russe, Aeropostale, and when she felt like splurging Hollister.

Bonnie was sure this was nothing to Damon since he had lived this way his whole life, but for Bonnie she was doing her level best not to freak out.

As if sensing her fight or flight mechanism was about to go off, Damon approached his soon-to-be step sister and grazed her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

The touch of her skin burned his and he resisted by the skin of his teeth the urge to hiss in pleasure. Damon had been a sensualist all his life. He got off on touching things, being touched, and of course lots of visual stimulation. Bonnie was beautiful yet she reminded him of a doe being brought out of the wilderness and being placed into captivity.

When their eyes met again, he was fully prepared to go through a: I know this is difficult speech, but Bonnie pulled away from him, rupturing the moment.

"Thank you for showing me to my room. I'm really tired. I'd like to try to get some sleep."

"Okay," Damon nodded and figured he better not press his luck. He walked to the double doors leading to the way out, yet stopped. "I'll be back around nine-thirty to escort you to the party. Your hair and makeup team will get here probably around seven so you want to be up and showered by then."

"Hair and makeup?"

Damon shrugged. "We all want to look our best to celebrate our parents' upcoming nuptials, don't we?" he winked.

"Hmm," Bonnie replied.

"Sleep tight, Bonnie."

Damon left and closed the doors behind him. He began whistling as he retraced his steps to head off to his own room to prepare for tonight. He rubbed his dick since it was still semi-erect and came to a stop when he saw Katherine waiting for him at the end of the hall, arms folded with a petulant look on her porcelain face.

"What?" he snapped at her.

"You were in there for a _long _time," she accused sweetly. "I hope you didn't ruin the sheets after popping her cherry."

Damon flicked the end of Katherine's nose knowing she hated it since his sister snorted cocaine recreationally—at least according to her. She sharply slapped his hand away.

"It's cute that you think I work _that _fast, Katherine. I was just giving her a thorough," and Damon chose that precise moment to widen his eyes the way he typically did to emphasize his point, "tour of her new and sprawling dwellings."

Katherine ran her eyes over Damon and kept them locked on his penis longer than decency allowed. "Speaking of sprawling dwellings…"

"Eyes up here, Kat."

She laughed lowly and snaked her arm through Damon's and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Is she as boring as her mother is? I swear I nearly slit my throat just to give myself something to do while Abby and Giuseppe simpered over one another."

They had come to Damon's room to which he unbound Katherine's koala like hold on his arm. "I found Bonnie…rather stimulating," he smiled.

"Of course you would. You just want to fuck her."

"And people want peace in the Middle East."

Damon entered his room knowing that Katherine would follow regardless if he gave her an invite or not. He moved around his room, unbuttoning his shirt until it fell open but he didn't take it off. Damon walked behind his desk to see if anyone might have sent him an IM or tried to Skype him.

Katherine tilted her head to get a better view of his rippling abs. Damon might only be seventeen but he took very good care of himself. And Katherine always had a weakness for pretty boys with muscles. She changed her train of thought.

"Do you honestly like her, Damon?"

"Like who?" he asked distractedly.

Katherine huffed. "Who have we been talking about for the last ten minutes? I swear you have the attention span of a squirrel."

Damon looked up at his sister. "Katherine I have a lot on my mind. I have a party to get ready for, guests to impress, and a new baby sister footsteps to direct."

"Yeah, straight into your bed."

A sinister grin overtook Damon's veneer. "Don't act jealous…it causes nosebleeds for a girl with your drug addiction."

Katherine picked up the nearest thing which happened to be a heavy paperweight and threw it at Damon's head. He ducked and jumped out of the way as the glass object exploded on impact raining down shards of glass on his head.

"Fuckin' bitch."

"Asshole," she growled and quickly left the room, slamming the door in her wake.

With her gone, Damon cricked his neck and then paged his personal maid to get to his room stat to clean that shit up. He was wearing Valentino tonight and not a drop of blood was going to get on it.

Stripping out of his shirt and unbuckling his belt, Damon shook his head. He could really question the health of his relationship with Katherine. He loved her and sometimes hated her in equal measure. They were each others strength and weakness, and he would do anything in the world for her if only to see her smile.

But she was also poison to his system, sometimes clouding his judgment and making him behave more like a jilted boyfriend rather than an overprotective little brother.

With Bonnie in the picture she could certainly derail the kinship he had with Katherine, but he was kind of tired of their ways. Katherine might have thought he wanted to corrupt Bonnie, and perhaps he did. The jury was still out, though.

He looked up when his maid tentatively entered his room armed with her cleaning supplies. Damon finished disrobing knowing it made her uncomfortable but he didn't give a shit. He loved his body and had no qualms about sharing it with others. Walking completely naked to his bathroom, he slammed the door behind him and climbed into the shower with one persistent thought on the brain.

Conquer.

* * *

Night had fallen as a caravan of luxurious vehicles and a parade of smartly and richly dressed guests diverged on the stone mansion on the hill. The Salvatore Estate was lit up like the Eiffel Tower as people poured into the main atrium before filtering throughout the lower-level of the house.

Giuseppe dressed in Roberto Cavalli stood proudly with a flute of champagne in one hand and his other occupying the hip of his fiancé Abby who looked stunning in her Carolina Herrera one shouldered creation. The two greeted guests and accepted praise and good tidings for their upcoming wedding which would take place in mid-September which was a little over a month away.

Katherine, unperturbed by her earlier squabble with Damon entertained and enthralled guests with her humorous stories about her summer trip to Spain playing the part of the well-behaved and respectable young woman she stopped being a long time ago.

Hiding out in her bedroom, Bonnie twisted her French manicured hands together, worrying her bottom lip. This was her first premiere of sorts and the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself in a room full of strangers whose combined net worth was more than the national debt.

Her makeup and hair team had left the minute she was dressed in the fire engine red Prada number she decided to wear.

A loud knock sounded on the door causing her to jump.

"Come in!" she practically yelled to make sure the person could hear her on the other side of the heavy wood door.

A mop of midnight hair slicked into a style reminiscent of Cary Grant popped through the opening.

"Ready?" Damon asked slyly as he stepped fully into Bonnie's room.

She nodded her head and tried to keep her eyes above his neckline and failed. Damon could wear the hell out of suit that was for sure. He was clean shaven, not a hair out of place. His blue eyes were simply electric as they took a private tour of Bonnie in her gown. She cleared her throat and looked away.

"You look beautiful," Damon said with full sincerity.

"You…don't look so bad either," Bonnie's compliment was a little tougher to get out, but it did and Damon would accept it. He crossed the room to stand before her catching whiffs of her Burberry perfume.

"We don't want to keep the crowd waiting, but I was thinking maybe we could go to my private study and make a toast first."

"No," Bonnie replied hastily. "The party's already started so we should get down there as soon as possible."

Damon admired her even more being this close to her. Her eyes were like luminous balls of energy shrouded in dark shadow that highlighted the almond shape to them. Her lips were painted in the same bold red as her dress and her hair had been swept to the side, held in place with antique diamond hair combs, and rippled in lustrous waves to cup her breast.

"I take it back you don't look beautiful."

Fury swept across Bonnie's face.

"You look ethereal, stunning…succulent."

Her cheeks warmed again and Bonnie traced her bottom lip with her tongue to which Damon's hungry eyes followed.

"We should get going," Bonnie spoke through the tightness of her throat. She wasn't used to compliments especially from a guy who looked like Damon. He equally made her weary and nervous. Bonnie didn't like or want the effect he had on her and she would do everything in her power to make sure it stopped.

"You should try to remember that we're going to be brother and sister soon and you can't...say things like that to me," Bonnie warned.

For his part Damon tried to appear to be contrite. Failed. Horribly. "If something looks good in my eyes I don't hold back in letting that person know. It's just who I am, Bonnie." Pause. "But for you...I'll try to remember."

Damon outstretched his arm. Bonnie accepted and wordlessly they traveled through the archways until they came to the grand staircase and descended. Several people stopped their activity to watch as they made their way down the steps while lights from cameras flashed. This was her Hollywood moment and Bonnie would allow herself to enjoy it for all of a New York minute before going back to reality.

"Bonnie, baby you look…" Abby couldn't get her words out as she hugged her only child, nearly in tears.

"Ma," Bonnie complained good-naturedly before she was passed off to Giuseppe who kissed both of her cheeks and told her how stunning she looked as well.

Katherine joined the circle and though she wore a smile on her face there was clearly death in her eyes. "Ah, sis you clean up so nicely. You don't look like a spinster in the making after all."

Bonnie's nostrils flared. "Look bi-,"

"Katherine," Giuseppe cut off Bonnie's opening tirade. "Keep your gotdamn mouth closed," he said through clenched teeth although he was smiling.

"You don't have to keep coming to her rescue. I'm not going to eat her. I'll save that to people like Damon."

Abby rolled her eyes and was about to say something when the official photographer came up wanting to get a shot of the family.

Bonnie automatically went to stand beside her mother while Damon took up the spot next to Bonnie and lightly placed his hand on the small of her back. Katherine wrapped herself around Giuseppe and smiled broadly at the camera. Shark teeth and all.

Several shots later, Katherine got lost in the crowd and Giuseppe took both Abby and Bonnie by the hands to introduce them to his friends and constituents.

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you," Kennedy came up behind Damon and sloppily kissed him.

He had to pry her off of him and licked the taste of Moet and her berry flavored lip stick off his mouth. Kennedy was dressed as he expected her to in tasteful yards of chiffon.

"Come with me to get a drink," she purred.

"I think you might have had enough already," Damon retorted. He covertly looked around to make sure a certain girl dressed in red with green eyes wasn't watching.

"What are you the sober police now?" she snorted rudely. "I haven't seen you in two weeks and now that your familial obligation is over, you and I can get lost and…" she leaned up to whisper something raunchy in his ear.

A naughty smile traipsed across his face. Damon mumbled hello to some passerby's while Kennedy boldly palmed him right there in the middle of the room. He swirled his finger around her areola until her nipple distended. Damon cleared his throat and took Kennedy by the hand and dragged her away.

He was horny after all. And Kennedy was willing. Why not?

* * *

This place was too confusing. Bonnie was in desperate need of a bathroom. She had consumed two glasses of some special so-called non-alcoholic beverage and it was passing through her system like a flash flood. There was a buzz going off in the back of her head and that only happened after she consumed alcohol.

Bonnie felt she had done her duty for the night and could now be excused. She had smiled at all of Giuseppe's friends who were now "her" friends and endured vulgar looks from the men who knew she was underage and seemed to be turned on not _off _by that. She didn't know what her mother was dragging her into, but Bonnie was determined that she wouldn't be tainted by it.

For now she had more pressing issues on the mind like finding the gotdamn bathroom!

She walked down a service hall from the kitchen hoping to find one, only it opened into another suite like apartment in this ridiculously sized house. Crossing through the living room there were two doors on the far wall. Left or right? Those were her options.

Bonnie decided to go right but then she heard a moan coming from the left.

Her other fault in life was being doggedly curious. Knowing she shouldn't but unable to help herself, Bonnie tip toed her way to the other door which she noticed was left slightly ajar. Maybe whoever was inside wanted to get caught. Wasn't that the thrill of doing it in public?

She heard another moan this one more guttural than the last. Bonnie peeped one eye through the slit and nearly gasped.

And there he was her soon-to-be step brother palming the sides of some girl's head while she serviced him on her knees.

"Suck that _shit,_" he encouraged.

The girl mumbled something incoherently and began sucking his dick vigorously. Bonnie watched the girl's technique for a minute marveling at her skill since Damon had been reduced to growls, moans, and howls. She knew she had to leave when she felt her body beginning to react to the stimuli and when Damon's eyes flew open and locked with hers, Bonnie definitely picked up her dress and booked it.

Closing her bedroom door behind her, Bonnie slid against it. That was embarrassing! She quickly got lost in the bathroom, relieved herself, washed her hands, and wondered if it would be wise to go back downstairs and rejoin the party or pretend to be too tired to carry on. Who could fault her for being tired? She had been on an almost eight hour flight and introduced into a world she only saw on television and the glossy pages of magazines. This would all take some getting used to and her mom had more experience than her at the moment, she would be fine on her own.

Bonnie quickly disrobed and hung up her dress in the closet and slipped into a pair of lightweight pajamas. She was seated at the vanity taking the hair combs out of her hair when the door to her room opened.

She shifted on her seat and sighed in relief when Bonnie saw it was only her mom.

"You left the party suddenly. I wanted to check on you." Abby ran her eyes over Bonnie who was dressed for bed. "Tired or afraid of members of the Illuminati?" she grinned.

"Pick one," Bonnie replied.

Abby joined her daughter on the padded vanity bench.

"Mom this isn't our life. We belong in Mystic Falls where people drink champagne out of little plastic cups, and they buy their children mini refrigerators for graduation, not send them on walkabouts in Australia."

Abby chuckled. "I know this is a lot for you to take in and it's a definite one eighty from our old lifestyle, but you know I've never met a man like Giuseppe. He's been good to me—to us. Forget everything else. Don't you want to be a part of _his _life?"

Bonnie didn't say anything but stared contritely at her mother. She loved Giuseppe there had been no question of that, and she of course wanted her mom to be happy.

"So just try, baby," Abby implored. "If it becomes too much…well we'll just have to reconsider something's."

"Mom…I can't ask you to give up Giuseppe for me."

Abby rose from the bench an eyebrow lifted in the air. "That offer was never on the table," she winked at her daughter. "Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Alone again, Bonnie returned to stare at her reflection. Sometimes trying was the hardest thing to do.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Let me say this *clears throat* CONGRATULATIONS GABBY DOUGLAS OF THE US WOMENS GYMNASTIC TEAM AND ALL-AROUND GOLD MEDALIST! We need more positive African-American female role models for the next generation that's coming up to look up to. Now back to the story. In this Damon and Giuseppe won't have the hate relationship that we're kind of used to seeing. It'll be the usual father/son power dynamic but not anything malicious because that's been done and redone. Katherine is going to be an interesting piece of work once that devious mind of hers gets going. And Damon and Bonnie…you'll have to keep reading to see how this all plays out. Oh, and I should break some hearts right now and tell you that the gang we're used to seeing in Mystic Falls, well not everyone will be in this fic. Fair warning. Thanks for reading! Love you! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: See it didn't take another month for me to update. Enjoy. And just for reference, if you've seen Rules of Attraction, when Ian Somerhalder was a tad bit thinner, that's what he (Damon) looks like in the first half of this story.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of LJ Smith and the CW. No copyright infringement intended.

Two orgasms and half a bottle of Moet later, Damon came stumbling out of the room off the service hallway. Tossing the bottle up to his lips, tipping his head back and letting the golden liquid glide down his throat and into his belly, he belched loudly and turned to look behind him as Kennedy pulled up her dress and wiped the corner of her mouth. She tucked herself under his arm and bit his chin playfully before wrestling the bottle away from him. She took a greedy swallow before passing it back.

Kennedy giggled. "Can I stay the night? Please?"

If there was one thing Damon hated, he hated sleepovers. Sleepovers meant his date for the evening would require breakfast and a shower and Damon was wholeheartedly against sharing his space with a booty call. Besides, it also put ideas into heads that were otherwise filled with air. He liked Kennedy well enough. She was fun and a good lay, but at the end of the day, she had the potential of becoming clingy.

"Kennedy…we got a good deal going. Why are you trying to screw it up? You know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Kennedy might be faded but she was no idiot. She knew all about Damon Salvatore's elusive ways. A girl couldn't live in Orange County and not know about his notorious womanizing reputation. Like father like son, Giuseppe was no saint and Damon was apparently trying to go in the way of his father.

"Are you planning on screwing another bitch tonight?" she asked nastily.

"And if I were…I don't see how any of it is _your_ business."

Kennedy stopped walking. Damon pivoted in his designer shoes to face her. He upturned the bottle to his lips once more, keeping his eyes on her. A red hue crept up Kennedy's neck and settled in her cheeks and the center of her forehead. Damon could really careless if she was about to have a major hissy fit. Besides, there was someone else on his mind at the moment.

His voyeuristic step-sister. The rush he got in catching Bonnie catching him receiving head made him just that much harder in Kennedy's warm mouth. He wanted her to stay, watch, take notes, and learn because soon enough she would be taking Kennedy's place.

But Bonnie bolted before they got to the really fun stuff. Aw well. If everything went according to plan and his father didn't screw up his own relationship, he and Bonnie would have nothing but time to get to know one another.

A tear trickled from Kennedy's eye and ran down her cheek. "Why am I not good enough for you, Damon? We come from the same background. I suck you off the way you like…I take it up the…" she blushed, unable to finish her point.

Damon grinned and approached Kennedy. He dropped the bottle on the floor near his feet and wiped her tear away. He cupped her cheeks and tenderly kissed her forehead. "Yes, and its a backdoor you let everyone run through."

Rage swelled within Kennedy and she lashed out to slap his face, but Damon having anticipated the move, caught her wrist in his hand and applied pressure that caused her to cry out.

"Let me go. Stop. You're hurting me."

"You tried to hurt me, Ken. We had a good time. That's all. Don't try to make this into something that it's not."

Kennedy's nostrils flared as the tip of her nose became a bright red. "I love you, Damon," she broke out the heavy artillery.

Her confession did nothing for him except made him laugh hysterically. He released her hand, pushed her aside, and retrieved his bottle of Moet. "Sorry, but I don't fall in love with whores." Damon began whistling and turned to walk away but not without a shoe being thrown at his back.

Kennedy began ranting and railing and Damon, as cool as a cucumber, reached inside his jacket pocket for his cell. He sent a page to his private security to escort Miss Kennedy off the property. He also told them her visiting privileges have been revoked.

Back out into the main part of the house, Damon handed off the finished bottle of champagne to a member of the wait staff, and crowd surfed looking for one individual. He spotted Katherine amongst her circle of backstabbing, gold-digging friends looking right at home. His father was cuddled with his fiancé speaking to one of his oldest business partners. But that doggone Bonnie?

She was nowhere to be found.

Instinct told him she had scampered off to her room probably pretending to be tired. Damon looked at the David Yurman on his wrist noting it was barely past midnight. Making his way to the kitchen, Damon retrieved a platter of edible finger foods, two crystal flutes, and a bottle of sparkling cider. He knew Bonnie didn't drink and figured he'd play on her good girl side. He quickly disappeared up the service staircase and approached her room from the backend of the property.

He tapped on her door. "Bonnie?"

Minutes ticked by and there was no answer. Damon attempted to push the door open, but to no avail it was locked.

Instead of running a frustrated hand through his midnight hair, Damon smirked and walked off. He would concede this round, but that meant he had more time to work out his strategy. Refine it. Bonnie had gotten more than an eyeful tonight and he was going to do everything in his power to take advantage of it.

Cutting his losses, Damon went back down to the atrium to rejoin the party.

* * *

"Where is that delicious little brother of yours, Katherine? I need some proper eye candy to ogle, love," Rebekah Mikaelson asked as she tossed a long strand of blond hair over her shoulder.

Katherine craned her neck and darted her eyes to each corner of the room and spotted Damon nowhere. She did, however, spot that floozy Kennedy (forget her last name) being escorted out of the party by two security guards. The girl was crying and sputtering all over the place which could only mean one thing: Damon had grown tired of her and had her thrown out.

Good. Kennedy was a waste of his time and talent anyways.

"I'm not sure where he is. Probably has his head up some broad's skirt."

Rebekah laughed. "Well, he is the best at cunnlings."

Katherine stared at Rebekah sharply. "And how would you know?"

Rebekah's smile was as authentic as a three dollar bill. She began to move about the room, admiring Giuseppe's new art collection, pretending to be interested in celebrating his upcoming nuptials. Parties like these happened every other week in their world. Either someone was celebrating an engagement or a divorce. Her own parents were on the outs again, but Rebekah was sure they would mend their rift and continue to make their family one of the most formidable on the block. Divorce and legal separation was not apart of Esther and Mikael's vocabulary.

"Girl talk of course," Rebekah replied demurely. She had had a thing for Damon since she caught him skinny dipping off the Isle of Crete where they all vacationed there three summer's ago. Damon had been scrawny back then, slowly coming into his own, and what he lacked in muscle tone, well…he made up for in other areas.

That had been the rumor and Rebekah had wanted to find out for herself, but Damon had a strict rule about screwing his sister's friends. He didn't and if he did it was a one time thing and at a party—a _real _party where he could later blame it on the alcohol if need be.

"Well he should be since I've taught him everything he knows."

Rebekah faced her friend and raked her eyes over her lithe body. "Katherine, when you say things like that I begin to question your sanity."

Katherine giggled wildly, grabbed Rebekah by the hand and dragged her to the middle of the room. It was time to kick this party up a notch.

Abby and Giuseppe watched as Katherine did what she did best: garner attention. "Giuseppe…I know you love Katherine…but she has a certain reputation and I wonder if you're at all concerned about what people say about her. Damon, too."

Giuseppe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't control what people are going to say about my kids, Abby. I've done the best I could to raise them, but Kat and Damon…they're their own people."

"No, they're not. They're teenagers. They don't make the rules; they have to follow them. Bonnie is already overwhelmed but she's putting up a good front. Katherine and Damon…they both have dominate personalities, and they're going to use that against her. I'm just worried about my daughter."

Giuseppe turned to his fiancé, pecked her lips, and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "I promise you that we're going to figure out a way to make this work. Katherine will be heading off to college soon. Damon will be busy with his senior year in high school. Bonnie will find her way and she'll excel because that's what you've taught her to do. And in the mean time," Giuseppe began to nibble Abby's neck. "You and I will become man and wife and I'll show you how I plan to blend our lives."

Abby giggled like a school girl and then kissed him languorously. "I love you, Giuseppe Salvatore."

"I love you, Abby Bennett."

* * *

Sunlight poured into the room and Bonnie wasn't sure but she was fairly certain that John Legend was singing good morning to her. Pushing the delicious covers off her head, eyes squinting against the brightness of the room, Bonnie stilled and listened.

There was music playing but she didn't remember sitting the alarm clock to go off. In fact the clock that was in her room was an antique Grandfather clock that chimed choral music, not contemporary R&B.

Coughing and rolling to a sitting position, Bonnie had no idea how to shut off the music. It seemed like it was coming from the walls. She wanted to sleep for another hour but apparently the house had other plans for her. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Bonnie arched her back, stretched her arms over her head, rose, and padded her way to the bathroom. Although it was a bit irritating to be up before she wanted to get up, the music that was playing was certainly cleaning the cobwebs from her mind.

In another part of the house, remote clutched in his hand, Damon reclined in his executive style chair, feet propped up on his desk. He smirked to himself as he was sure that Bonnie was awake since he specifically had music blasting in her room. His own version of a serenade.

At first when his father had the PA system integrated in the house, Damon had accused the old man of trying to spy on him, but then it kind of became a necessity since the house was so huge it was impossible to call out for someone and have that person hear you. But Damon, being naturally curious about technology and how things worked, tweaked the system a bit to where he could stream music to any part of the house with the single click of a button. It came in handy when he wanted to set a mood and didn't feel like lugging around his extensive music collection to find the right song to create an atmosphere.

Last night after getting rid of Kennedy, he joined his friends, stole a couple bottles of his father's favorite scotch and headed down to the mini golf course where he held his own after party. Several tipsy girls had accompanied the group and of course entertained them by way of stripping out of their designer dresses, and peeling off their lingerie. Although he was still partially horny, Damon didn't partake of any of the willing and able bodies that was around.

He was selective when the mood suited him but his mind had been otherwise preoccupied. Thoughts of catching Bonnie while he was getting a blowjob certainly made the evening more thrilling than he thought possible. In his mind, Damon anticipated it to be another boring affair where his dad got to show off his new toy while his friends stood by watching enviously, coveting something Giuseppe Salvatore had.

Abby was nice enough to look at—in Damon's opinion. She had the same caramel skin as Bonnie but of course hers was a little more…what was the word…weathered? She didn't actually look her age whatever her age might be. He could tell she took good care of herself, or rather her body and looks was simply the product of good genes. In any case, Abby was an average looking woman to Damon since his father had dated much prettier, more stunning women in his past. But men like Giuseppe at the end of the day always wanted something simple, something which required less maintenance and he certainly got that in Abby.

Her daughter on the other hand? Damon squirmed against the leather seat. Bonnie was a beautiful girl with a killer, fuckable body to boot. What was he saying? All women were fuckable but there were some in a class by themselves that a man knew if he touched he would be ruined forever, unable to achieve another erection with anyone else no matter how many times he tried and no matter how many pills of Viagara he popped. It went without saying that Bonnie was naïve about the power that portal in the middle of her body contained.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was wrong to think about her in this light. She would be his step sister soon, and it went without saying that people would brand his thoughts as incestuous, crossing a line. And perhaps he was. But Damon was not one to live a conventional lifestyle because nothing about his life had ever been conventional.

He had been reared in an environment where excess was king. He had been denied nothing as a child. Whatever he asked for, he was given. Of course Giuseppe tried to wield some power over him by telling him to bring home good grades and do his part by giving back to the community. Damon fulfilled his end of the bargain, doing all that was required of a man who was well respected in his chosen profession and who many wanted to emulate. And because of this Giuseppe awarded Damon with fast cars, trips around the world, the latest and hottest gadgets, and of course a stockpile of wealth in the form of a lucrative trust fund he'd able to access at the blistering age of twenty-five.

Because he was spoiled and used to getting his way, when he sat his sights on something he wasn't one to tirelessly work to achieve it. Most of the time things were handed to him on a silver platter. When that happened, the novelty usually wore off after the first use. But when he actually had to put some elbow grease to get his way, the reward naturally was more fulfilling and he savored it until the the last drop.

Bonnie was a challenge for many reasons. The first being they were soon to be family. She didn't strike him as the type who actually dallied with having a controversial love life, if she even had a love life to begin with. But he would find that a little impossible to believe with hips like hers; however, that meant nothing in this day and time. Having wide hips did not denote having a vapid sex life.

The next obstacle to overcome was her opinion about him. It was clearly lined in her viridian eyes that she didn't trust him. And she had no reason too. Nevertheless, he would kill her with kindness as the old adage went: you can attract more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

Rising from his lounging position he figured it was time to head down for breakfast.

Coming out of her bathroom, donned in a chenille robe that felt like cotton candy caressing her skin, Bonnie was thankful that the music stopped playing in her room. She would have to tell Giuseppe about that. She did not appreciate having her sleep interrupted. Sitting down at the vanity and untying the silk scarf from her head, Bonnie proceeded to comb her hair.

Her stomach began to knot. She knew she'd have to leave the safe confines of her bedroom and head downstairs for breakfast. Her stomach growled as well since she didn't finish lunch, and only nibbled on finger foods at the party.

Bonnie switched her thoughts as she thought of how the party had ended. For her. It was one thing to walk in on strangers but to see Damon and mystery girl doing something she only saw on Showtime after dark…Bonnie couldn't escape feeling just a tiny bit traumatized. In all truth she didn't see much. She just saw the back of some girl's head facing Damon's crotch while her head bobbed. See nothing.

Yet it was instinct which told her that Damon would make it into something it wasn't; grossly exaggerating what she saw and her response to it. So Bonnie told herself that she would ignore him and avoid him as much as possible letting the episode pass without incident.

She quickly dressed in a pair of jean shots and a T-shirt. Simple attire because she had no plans but to explore the rest of the house, and maybe catch up on some reading. Giuseppe had told her that the house held a library and Bonnie was nothing if not a bookworm and loved to read. In fact, in most social situations she preferred books to people since they rarely let her down in the form of keeping her intrigued and her attention rapt. People sometimes demanded far too much work for her liking, often having a cater-to-me-now mentality. She wasn't sure how she was going to like living in California. In her opinion, it was a state where people were obsessed with their looks, their wealth, their lifestyle, and nothing else. Maybe she was generalizing and wasn't being fair, but only spending time here would either prove her right or wrong.

When she was in the middle of putting on her earrings, a knock sounded at her door. Bonnie stilled and licked her suddenly dry lips. She had made sure the door was locked and secured before going to sleep last night. She didn't want any late-night visitors.

Opening the door, Bonnie saw a small woman who was dressed in a white polo shirt with the word STAFF embroidered over her left breast and khaki pants. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun that rested on the back of her neck. She had a pleasant, attractive face, and a nice smile.

"Good morning," Bonnie said politely.

"Good morning, Miss Bennett. I've come to clean your room."

"Oh," Bonnie said and opened the door wider for the maid to enter. Bonnie felt a little embarrassed when she saw that her bed was still unmade. Her mother taught her that the first thing she did after her feet hit the floor was to make up her bed. This morning she had been too distracted with the music that was streaming into her room to follow protocol. Other than that, nothing else was out of place or needed cleaning in Bonnie's opinion.

The maid quietly and quickly began stripping the bed. Bonnie stood and watched for a second, before leaving her to her duties.

She never had anyone pick up after her not since she was five years old. Abby had taught her cleanliness was next to godliness and that being self-sufficient was the main ingredient to personal success. Living here in this house which seemed to run itself, Bonnie knew she ran the risk of becoming lazy and taking even doing the simple things for granted. She'd have to be mindful about that in the future.

As she thought of all of this, Bonnie managed to find her way to the industrial-sized kitchen. Her mom was there drinking a cup of tea and reading the newspaper while Giuseppe spoke into his Bluetooth hammering out orders on a Sunday morning while biting into a piece of wheat toast.

Greeting her mom with a kiss on her cheek, and giving Giuseppe a one-armed hug, Bonnie took a seat at the table where the cook materialized out of nowhere and sat down a glass of orange juice and a bowl of chopped fruit in front of her.

"Thank you," Bonnie mumbled.

"Would you care for some eggs?"

"Yes, please."

"How do you take them?"

Was she at a restaurant, Bonnie thought bemusedly and carefully explained how she preferred her eggs and asked if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could she also have a Belgian waffle.

Giuseppe ended his call and took his Bluetooth out of his ear. "How did you sleep last night, Bonnie? I noticed you left the party early."

"I slept good," she downplayed. Bonnie had slept like she was back in the womb. That pillow top mattress and thousand count sheets were the shit! "I wanted to sleep in a little later but there was music playing in my room, and I didn't know where it was coming from or how to shut it off."

Giuseppe shook his head. "That was probably Damon. We have a PA system wired throughout the house. I'll tell him about that when I see him."

Bonnie speared a piece of cantaloupe with her fork. Damon, hmm. Made sense. "I should have stayed longer at the party, though. It was rude of me to leave without telling everyone goodnight."

Giuseppe waved off her words with his hand. "There wouldn't have been any need. You had a long flight into town and you spent a part of the afternoon with my son…who can be draining I will admit. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I have it on good authority that Bonnie enjoyed herself immensely. She got a preview of a special show last night that had her running around a like in thief in the night."

Bonnie bit her lips to keep from cursing.

"Damon," Giuseppe looked up and saw his only son approaching the table dressed in a plain black T-shirt and dark blue jeans. "You're joining us for breakfast. That's a first."

Damon smiled at his father before bringing those incandescent blue eyes of his to Bonnie who he noticed tired to sink down in her seat as if attempting to hide. He didn't sit down at the table, but rather stood behind the chair next to hers.

Abby looked up from her paper and quickly scowled at him. "Good morning, Damon," she said at last.

"Abby," Damon bowed.

Making a steeple of his hands, Giuseppe kept his focus on Damon. "What special show did Bonnie see?"

Feeling her cheeks warm, Bonnie was vastly losing her appetite along with her decorum. She squeezed her fork in her hand ready to plunge it someplace rather unpleasant in Damon.

Sensing her discomfort, inwardly Damon laughed, and sat down. "Why don't I let her tell it?" he picked up a banana and stretched it out to Bonnie. "Would you like a banana? I heard they're rich in potassium."

All eyes focused on Bonnie who felt like she was sitting on the proverbial hot seat. Bonnie did not like lying or bending the truth for her benefit. She cut her eyes at Damon since he seemed hell bent on her explaining how her nosiness got her into this situation, but Bonnie wasn't going down like that.

"Well, I was looking for Damon and I couldn't find him anywhere."

Damon said nothing. If she thought she would expose him in a roundabout way thinking it might lead to him getting in trouble with his father, well she had another thing coming. Giuseppe knew he was no virgin and made sure Damon routinely went in for testing and physicals. If there was a form of male birth control—other than condoms—Damon was certain his father would get him a prescription so he could fuck without fear of knocking up some girl.

"He promised that he would stay with me all night, since I knew no one at the party. And I was looking forward to it because we… well I thought we hit it off. I guess I was wrong, and I guess he didn't want to be bothered with me," Bonnie pouted a bit and if Damon didn't know any better he would swear her eyes were watering.

What the hell? Damon thought as he began to glare daggers at her. She was trying to set him up.

"Wait…no…that's not what…"

Giuseppe shook his head at his son, disappointment clearly lining his blue eyes. "I've raised you better than that, Damon. You knew Bonnie would feel out of place meeting everyone for the first time. You gave your word to her and you broke it. How many times have I drilled it into your head that a man lives and dies by his word?"

"Dad…"

"Apologize for your behavior last night."

Damon's eyes widened. His father _knew _he hated apologizing. His cheeks and the back of his neck were turning a bright cherry red.

Bonnie batted her long eyelashes at him waiting to hear him grovel for her forgiveness.

Damon shifted until he could face her. So he underestimated Bonnie thinking there wasn't a devious bone in her body. She had effectively taken the heat off of her and thrown it on him.

"We had a misunderstanding. It won't happen again," he bit out through clenched teeth. "I was however, in the middle of something when you saw me again."

That didn't sound like an apology to Bonnie, but whatever. She rose from her chair at the table. Although her breakfast was still cooking, she would just ask it be brought up to her room. "Thank you, Damon. I'm sure whatever you were _doing _last night was well worth it."

"It was," he practically growled.

Abby, however, wasn't buying this scene that was playing out before her. Bonnie had mentioned nothing to her last night about Damon promising to stick by her side. If anything Bonnie had appeared overly relieved to be away from the party-more specifically away from Damon. Something had happened at the party; that much was obvious. She'd get to the bottom of it, but not now.

Katherine had entered the kitchen wearing an emerald silk robe that was so obscenely short that if she came downstairs naked it would have been more modest. She mumbled incoherently as she poured herself a cup of black coffee, grabbed the side of her head, and disappeared.

Bonnie went over to the cook and told her that she wanted to eat in her room. It was with some reluctance she was given her plate that was laden with her Belgian waffle and fluffy scrambled eggs. She began heading towards the exit.

"Bonnie, where are you going?" Abby called to her daughter.

"I'm going to eat this on the deck in my room. I'll see you all later."

Damon was quick to get to his feet and followed after her. "I have to admit that I underestimated you, Bonnie."

"What are you talking about, Damon?"

"Don't try to play coy now. You know exactly what it was you just did. You turned the tables. Took the heat off of you and placed it on me. Clever."

Bonnie glanced up at him and smirked. "I thought so as well. Apparently you wanted me to admit what I caught you doing. Why would I want to acknowledge what my brain is trying to forget?"

"You aren't the least bit curious?" he attempted to whisper in her ear which was a little difficult to do considering they were walking and he was significantly taller than her.

"The least bit curious about what? Seeing you get your_ little_ seventeen year old dick sucked?" she rolled her eyes. "I'll pass."

Damon stopped following her the minute they reached the staircase. He stopped for several reasons. One) she called his dick little. The hell it wasn't. Two) Bonnie said the word dick like it was the vilest thing on the planet. Unfortunately it still had the ability to turn him on. Three) Bonnie had eviscerated his plans to get her to admit that she enjoyed what she saw last night.

He stood at the bottom of the staircase watching her put as much distance between them as possible.

Well, he'd let her go for now since he made plans to go sailing with a few of his friends. The summer was drawing to a close and soon he'd be heading back to school so he wanted to fill up the remainder of his summer with nothing but adventure. Damon was excited but reluctant to start his senior year. He was on the top of the social food chain, the big man on campus, and when he went off to college, he'd have to start all over from scratch. Not exactly something he was relishing.

Just as he was about to get missing in his cave he saw his dad approaching. Giuseppe walked with the self-assured gait of a man who knew who he was and was more than comfortable in his skin. In twenty years Damon knew he'd look like his father since he had pretty much been his splitting image since birth. Giuseppe was a good looking man still able to attract women half his age, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, Damon knew he'd be just like his father one day.

When Giuseppe was close he slung his arm over Damon's shoulder. "Walk with me."

The two headed to Giuseppe's office. Like the rest of the house it was massive in size. Persian rugs littered the ground. Floor to ceiling bookshelves encompassed one wall and was filled with books of almost every single literary genre. This office always smelled of wood, leather, and faint traces of cigar smoke. Giuseppe's one indulgence was a good cigar after closing another contract.

Damon sat down on the back of the leather sectional couch as Giuseppe took a seat behind his desk.

"What are your intentions with Bonnie, Damon?"

It took a second for his father's question to process in his mind, and when it did Damon laughed. "Are you serious right now? Last time I checked you were _my_ father. Shouldn't Abby be the one asking me that question?"

Giuseppe glanced up from the credenza on his desk and pierced his son with that notorious glare of his. "Damon, I think you've forgotten I know how that devious mind of yours works. You love women, probably too much for your little dick to handle."

Damon balked. Was this pick on the size of his sausage day?

Giuseppe continued. "And I've seen the way you've looked at Bonnie since her arrival only yesterday. Besides…I also saw that you had security escort Kennedy out last night. I thought you were trying to be serious with her."

Damon folded his arms over his chest. "When have I ever been known to get serious with anyone, old man?"

Giuseppe cricked his neck. "That's the thing, son. You love girls but you disdain the idea of settling down with one."

"Girlfriends require too much work. I like variety. It was something which was unfortunately instilled in me at a young age. Can't fault me for being a product of my environment."

Giuseppe sat back in his chair, aghast. "Oh, so you're going to blame your whoremongering ways on me?"

"No, sir. But…" Damon shrugged. "You know what they say about apples not falling far from the tree," he sighed. "I get bored easily. Kennedy, she served her purpose and now its time to move on. And you were the one to tell me to have a discerning eye when it comes to women. Weeding out the bad from the good."

"Fair enough. But seriously…Abby is extremely concerned about you and Katherine being a bad influence on Bonnie. She's a sweet girl. I don't want either one of you trying to taint her or make her feel like she's not a part of this family. Cross me on this, ruin my chances of making a life with Abby and you won't _live_ to regret it. Do we understand each other?"

Damon curtly nodded his head. "Dad, I know I have the tendency to act like a pervert, but I just want Bonnie to look up to me as her older brother. That's all."

Yeah, right Giuseppe thought and figured he better leave it alone for now. Damon was the kind of person that if you told him not to do something he took it as an invitation to do it.

"All right," Giuseppe conceded. "I don't want to have this conversation again. What are your plans for the rest of the day? I was thinking of taking the girls out on the yacht."

"Really?" Damon's mind began working. "I was planning on going sailing with the guys, but…I can cancel."

"Hmm," Giuseppe mumbled as his BlackBerry vibrated in his hand. "We're leaving out around three. If you're coming, be ready to go by then."

* * *

When Giuseppe presented the idea of spending the rest of the day sailing the Pacific Ocean on his private yacht Bonnie was ecstatic. But the minute she discovered that Damon, Katherine, and Katherine's friend Rebekah would be joining them, it gave birth to an attitude.

Bonnie wasn't sure how she felt about Katherine, well that wasn't entirely accurate. She couldn't stand that bitch nor girls like her in general. Girls who looked at other females as competition and went out of their way to demean them at every given opportunity. If Katherine felt that Bonnie and her mother were encroaching on her territory, well that was her freaking problem. Bonnie didn't ask her mother to fall in love with one Giuseppe Salvatore, but it happened and now they were getting married and everyone would have to deal with it and subsequently get over it.

Damon was another matter altogether. Bonnie might not be as versed in the guy department as other females, yet she knew enough about girl/boy dynamics to tell when a guy had one thing on the mind. Damon was pretty much an open book in that regard so it would be easy enough to ignore him. In truth Bonnie didn't like guys like Damon. Arrogant. Cocky. Overly sexualized. Sure he provided fairly decent eye candy to ogle, but other than that…he just wasn't her type.

Getting out of the SUV which brought them to the shipyard, Bonnie tugged down her cutoff shorts, and slipped her sunshades on. She had chosen to wear her favorite bikini—a two piece white and pink polka dot number. She did find the drawer in her room that contained numerous options in swimwear, yet they had been too extravagant for her, and Bonnie always strode to be comfortable over flashy.

Katherine of course decided to wear some designer suit that was more suited for lounging around, not really functional for swimming. Rebekah was decked in a forest green thong bikini. Bonnie would give the girl points for courage for wearing that bathing suit especially in the presence of adults.

"Here let me help you," Damon took Bonnie by the elbow to help her down a short set of steps. He had donned a royal blue polo shirt that hugged the hell out of his biceps that he paired with black Hawaiian print board shorts. It was her first time seeing him wear color—other than black—and it did make his eyes even more electric than usual.

"Thanks," Bonnie mumbled and then walked up the gangplank to the yacht. Needless to say it was humongous and glamorous and Bonnie felt she was about to shoot a music video. It was sleek in design, equipped to handle any kind of climate, and was obviously built with speed in mind.

Bonnie didn't know much about sailing so she left Giuseppe and Damon to set the ship out to sea while Bonnie placed a towel on a padded chaise to enjoy the sun.

"Isn't this exciting?" Abby gushed as she took up the chaise next to Bonnie's. "I told you I'd take you sailing one day."

Looking over her shoulder towards her mother, Bonnie nodded and smiled. "Technically Giuseppe is the one who's doing the sailing."

Katherine and Rebekah took up residence on the other side of the massive deck, engrossed in their own conversation which was just fine with Bonnie. She wasn't particularly interested in being asked to join them.

The men returned once the motor was running and they were well on their way.

Stripping off his polo shirt and tossing it aside, Damon wanted to sit next to Bonnie, but he felt that his father and Abby was watching his every move like a hawk, so naturally he joined the vixens.

Rebekah's eyes lit up the minute his torso was exposed yet she kept her drooling to the minimum and only threw fleeting glances his way.

Katherine held out a bottle of sun block lotion towards him. "Damon…do you mind? I don't want to burn."

Accepting the bottle, Damon waited until Katherine flipped on her stomach and undid her top. Straddling her waist, Damon poured the lotion on Katherine's back and worked it into her olive skin. Of course she purred like a contented kitty and made remarks about Damon having magical hands.

"Oh, sis you're so tense," Damon rolled his eyes as he worked the lotion on her shoulders and down her spine.

Rebekah watched on feeling left out, unable to wait her turn. Her skin was much paler than Katherine's and would need extra attention.

Feeling that a pair of eyes was on him, Damon looked up from his task and caught Rebekah staring at him—hungrily. He winked at her and went back to finishing up Katherine who had an ear-to-grin on her face while she used her folded arms as a makeshift pillow.

"You should be fine now," Damon told her once he was done.

Katherine lifted her head to look at him over her shoulder. "Don't you want to do my legs?" her eyebrows arched over the rim of her Dolce & Gabana shades.

Damon rose. He ignored that question.

He knew Rebekah was bouncing around in her seat impatiently waiting for him to offer to lather her up. She was a beautiful girl. Katherine's philosophy in life was only to make friends with people you could see yourself dating and/or fucking. If you couldn't there would be no point in extending your friendship to them. Girls were not excluded from this criterion. Damon never really questioned Katherine's sexuality, knowing she dabbled in just about everything, though she tended to date men exclusively.

He stood in between their lounge chairs. Rebekah had stretched out offering him a bird's eye view of her well endowed chest, creamy thighs, and sculpted legs. Since her bathing suit left little to the imagination, Damon figured Rebekah was either completely bald down there or had the so-called landing strip. Her blonde hair was nearly milk white and there was a rosy tint to her cheeks. Her lips were full, and not the product of collagen injections. She was a typical California blonde. They came a dime a dozen. Her only advantage over her competition was her English accent.

Damon waved the bottle back and forth. "Do you need sun block?" he asked with a smirk.

Rebekah pretended to debate the question for a minute prior to turning to rest on her stomach. Damon's eyes naturally fell to her exposed backside. She had a pear shaped bottom. Nice. But he'd seen better.

"Yes, please and be liberal with it. I tend to burn easily."

"I'll keep that in mind," Damon straddled the chaise, locking his knees on either side of Rebekah. His crotch nearly brushed against her ass.

Katherine watched them for a minute—frowning. She turned her head away, ready to doze off again.

Damon poured the lotion in the palm of his hands before rubbing them together. Rebekah let out a hiss the minute his warm hands touched her cool back.

Rebekah was doing her level best not to squirm in pleasure at having Damon Salvatore touch her, but she was losing that battle. The seat of her panties would be dripping by the time he was finished with her. For his part, Damon brushed the sides of her breasts with his fingertips knowing that little touch would be enough to spark some interesting activities below her waist.

Bonnie sighed deeply as she viewed what looked to be, in her opinion, the opening scene of a soft core porno.

"You're right, Kat, Damon's hands are magical. Perhaps you should become a masseuse as a side business. I would definitely utilize your services on a weekly basis."

"I don't think you can afford me, Becks."

Rebekah lifted her chest a little off the chaise. Damon having received the message, snaked his hands around and cupped her breasts, giving them a little squeeze before letting go and going back to rubbing the lotion into her skin.

Nice tits, he thought. Firm, perky. The way he liked them. After he did that, the look Rebekah tossed his way, he saw nothing but raw hunger in her eyes. He could take her right now if he wanted to. Damon cleared his throat. "Done."

Rebekah pouted yet continued to stare at him pointedly. "Thanks, love."

He gave her a parting wink before getting up. Thankfully his pecker was at half-mast and not at full salute. Rebekah had definitely been responsive. How much of it was an exaggeration—well only she could answer that. Pivoting on his heels, Damon was fully prepared to offer to lotion Bonnie up but he kind of skittered to a stop when he saw that his dad was doing the honor.

Bonnie held her hair to the side as she sat up while Giuseppe worked his large hands over her small back. She was looking out towards the cerulean water of the ocean, but then her eyes fluttered closed when Giuseppe applied pressure to her shoulders. Damon narrowed his eyes trying to discern if his father was enjoying touching Bonnie's skin more than he should, but he couldn't detect anything other than fatherly devotion on his stupid face.

Gritting his teeth and looking away, Damon flounced on the only vacant chaise left. He tried his best to ignore what was happening across from him, but his eyes the traitorous orbs would continue to drift back to Bonnie. She was no longer sitting but standing and stretching. His eyes followed her movement.

They were about twenty fives miles at sea when they dropped anchor. Swimming in the ocean was exhilarating and a bit frightening, yet that didn't stop Damon from being the first to jump in. Rebekah followed suit although she didn't really like water, but if it meant she could be in close proximity with Damon, she'd be up for anything.

Abby and Bonnie were avid swimmers. Often utilizing the public pool at the YMCA during the summer. Mother and daughter held hands and dove in. Giuseppe, surprisingly canon balled in the ocean. Katherine had chosen to remain on deck to work on her tan.

"Swim with me, Damon," Rebekah beckoned him.

His eyes volleyed between her and Bonnie who was playing Marco Polo with her mom and his dad. He could easily join in the fun, break up this tender moment they were trying to have and insert himself in the picture. However, from the way Rebekah was biting her bottom lip, and the fact she was drifting to the other side of the ship so they wouldn't be seen, Damon followed his natural instinct and went after Rebekah.

He groped her, imparted her with open mouth kisses that left her panting and desiring more, but his mind wasn't fully into it. Not when Bonnie's laughter tickled his ears, along with her cries for Giuseppe to stop splashing her. He wanted to know what was going on, on the other side of the ship, but Rebekah would distract him by fondling him through his trunks, biting his neck, and scraping her nails across his back.

When her head went under water and he felt her releasing him from his board shorts, Damon nearly plowed his knee into her head. He pulled her up.

"We can't do this here."

"Why not? I know you want to," she leaned in for another kiss, but Damon turned his head away.

"Maybe later," he told her, hoping to lessen the blow of his rejection.

She smiled seductively. "No need to be modest, love. I won't tell you if you won't tell," she wrapped her arms around his neck, sealing her mouth over his once more.

Damon allowed her ministrations to continue, but his mind was on the activity taking place on the other side of the yacht. The second Rebekah bit his ear, Damon managed to break her vice-like grip and held her away.

"Just _stop_," he said lowly.

Of course the lust vanished from her blue eyes in a nanosecond replaced with indignant rage. "Is it Katherine you're worried about pissing off? She's your sister in case you've forgotten."

Damon narrowed his eyes at her and curled his lip. "Believe it or not Katherine doesn't control my dick."

"I want to _fuck_!" Rebekah demanded.

"And I don't," Damon said with finality.

He swam away just in time to see the others climbing back on the ship. Damon enjoyed watching the water sluice down Bonnie's magnificent ass, thick thighs, and those killer legs of hers. If only he had a camera. He quickly pulled his weight out of the water and was on the deck standing next to her.

Abby handed Bonnie a thick towel to which she quickly wrapped it around her body. When Rebekah came back on board it was clear to see she was fuming. She stomped her way inside the cabin of the yacht.

"What's her problem?" Bonnie wondered aloud.

"I have no idea," Damon lied. "Did you enjoy the water?" he asked hoping to finally draw her into a real conversation.

Bonnie nodded and smiled her first genuine smile towards him. "I love the ocean. It's so unbelievably warm."

Damon accepted his own towel and ran it through his hair. "I take it you don't get the chance to enjoy the beaches of the east coast all that much?"

Bonnie shook her head. "No. But mom and I we go swimming at the community pool whenever we get the chance."

"Do you do a lot of activities with your mom?"

The two of them walked over to a pair lounge chairs and sat back down.

"We do. I mean, I hang out with my friends of course, but my mom, we do a lot of different stuff together. I'd help her out at her store after school, and one weekend out of the month we always try a new activity. Are you close with your mom?"

The question caught Damon a little off guard. He guessed he could say he had the typical mother/son relationship with his mom. Margie Lockwood-Salvatore tried to dictate his life and Damon pretended to listen while he continued to do whatever made him happy. His mom doted on him, and when he screwed up, which thankfully wasn't too often, she'd nag him. But Damon wouldn't classify their relationship as being close.

He hunched a shoulder. "I only see my mom on major holidays and then I spend three weeks out of the year with her. We have a typical relationship. My dad will tell you that I'm a mama's boy, but I'm not."

"You only spend three weeks out of the year with her? I couldn't imagine being without my mom for all that time."

"You get used to it. She was here up until I was ten. Then my parents divorced and at first I lived with her for six months out of the year, and then my dad for the other six, but once I hit puberty…Margie was pulling her hair out and needed a break. Thus how I came to live with my father permanently."

Bonnie could see it. And hearing a little bit of his background managed to humanize Damon, if only a little.

"Hey, it's lunch time," Giuseppe announced.

Damon held out a hand to help Bonnie to her feet. She ignored it and pushed herself up. The two of them went inside. Katherine came in some time later.

For lunch the group dined on roasted lemon rosemary chicken, baked garlic fries, and a pecan and cranberry salad. Bonnie observed as Katherine and Rebekah split a chicken breast, and then merely picked at it. They avoided eating the nuts in the salad, but nibbled on the leaves and then diluted their diet cokes with water. They didn't go anywhere near the fries. If that was how they maintained their size one figures they could keep it. Bonnie ate everything on her plate and sucked her fingers clean. Compared to them she felt gluttonous, but at least she was stuffed and happy.

Afterwards, Abby, Giuseppe, and Damon settled at a mosaic top table to play cards. Bonnie attempted to catch up on her reading, while Rebekah and Katherine took pictures of themselves.

The swaying of the boat was somewhat comforting to Bonnie, but then she began to feel nauseous. Putting her book down, Bonnie slowly made her way inside. Her skin suddenly felt hot, and damp with sweat as saliva pooled in the bottom of her mouth. Was it the chicken? Or was she getting sea sick? Bonnie found one of the small bedrooms and decided to lie down and hoped the nausea passed. They were making their way back inland but it seemed they were moving too slow for her.

Abby came to check on her a little while later. She saw Bonnie's pale complexion and rushed off to get her a bottle of water and some Dramamine if there was any.

Damon entered the room after having crashed into a frantic Abby who told him that Bonnie wasn't feeling well.

She was sprawled out on her stomach, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed. He kneeled down, and pushed some of Bonnie's wavy chocolate hair off her face.

"You don't look so good," he told her.

"No…shit…" Bonnie attempted to sit up, but the world tilted dangerously. She pinched her lips together, and made a sound.

Damon knew the face of when someone was seconds away from puking. He quickly got to his feet but wasn't fast enough.

Half digested foot splattered on his legs and feet. Damon closed his eyes and cursed long and loudly.

"Sorry," Bonnie mumbled and settled back against the bed, feeling a little better.

Damon glared down at her. Could you believe this chick had the nerve to giggle?

Chapter end.

**A/N: So Damon's plan to embarrass Bonnie foiled. She's not as naïve as he has made her out to be. Not much else to say about this chapter. Katherine was pretty inactive only because I wasn't feeling particularly inspired by her or to write from her POV. But to reiterate, she and Damon like to say inappropriate things about each other but that's not indicative of them having a sexual relationship with one another. I have no plans to write any kind of incestuous scenes between them. My mind wouldn't be able to handle it lol. But thank you for reading. Until next time…love you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here is the latest update. Enjoy guys! **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Catalina Island, California**

Steam followed her out of the bathroom. Katherine's polished toes sunk into the carpet of her bedroom, yet she came to a stop when she saw a dark clad figured perched on her bed like a gargoyle.

She frowned at Damon, tightened the thick fluffy towel that was wrapped around her body more securely before taking a seat at her vanity. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm bored. That's what's wrong with me."

Katherine smirked and picked up a bottle of her favorite scented lotion. Her skin was still damp but she read in one of her beauty magazines it was good to apply lotion on slightly dampened skin to prevent wrinkles. She was a long way from having to worry about crow's feet, gravity affecting her tits, and cellulite but one could never stop the anti-aging process too early.

"Why don't you go bother our newly appointed step-sister? I'm sure she'd love to have your company. Besides, I think she missed a spot after upchucking on you the other day."

Damon grimaced in memory. He had taken several showers after Bonnie sprayed his legs and feet with vomit and still he was paranoid thinking a rancid stench was wafting from his skin. Bonnie only apologized once and it was a half-assed apology at that, in Damon's opinion. He caught her looking smug a couple of times once they boarded the dock, and packed up the SUV to head back to the house. Since then, he's kept his distance and Bonnie pretty much returned to ignoring his existence.

The beginning of his senior year was only a week off. He'd have the privilege of reinstating his alpha male status on campus, while directing Bonnie on who she should befriend, and who she should stay the hell away from. Of course being the new girl would make Bonnie a target to which Damon had every intention of being her white knight in shining armor, coming to her rescue provided it was needed, and building himself up in her mind as someone she could trust and let her guard down with.

It sounded like a daunting task and Damon pretty much figured everyone else would say he was wasting his time.

Damon wasn't looking to be crowned a saint. He had accepted his title as being a devious bastard on his way to hell a long time ago. He loved women. He loved breasts, thighs, and ass. He loved girls with full lips because they provided more suction on his pole. He loved girls who were petite in height and weight because he wasn't that tall himself so any advantage he could find, Damon capitalized on it. He loved girls who didn't think too much because in his world, there wasn't a subject he wasn't knowledgeable about. Call him a pig, call him dog, those were his preferences and no they weren't going to change.

He watched as Katherine lathered her arms putting in more effort than usual as she ran one hand up and down her toned, slightly muscled arm before switching to show the same devotion to the other. No matter what came out of her mouth, Katherine Pierce-Salvatore loved herself more than anything.

"Bonnie is avoiding me like the plague, and considering what happened on our first outing as a family on the yacht, I'm not looking for a repeat performance."

"Hmm," Katherine said and started working on her neck. She looked at her dark-haired brother through the reflection in the mirror. Damon looked extremely pensive which was so not like him. Katherine didn't like that look on his face nor what it suggested. She was ready to question him on it, but her cell chose that moment to beep.

Picking up the device she rolled her whiskery colored eyes. She dropped the phone and went back to pampering herself.

"Was that your mail-ordered husband checking in on you?" Damon snorted.

"Shut up. If you must know that was Rebekah. She's been pestering me all week about coming over." Katherine's eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened the last time you saw her?"

A mischievous grin curled Damon's lips. "She didn't tell you?"

Katherine's response to his question was the slight raising of her right eyebrow. She stared at him sharply. "Either you need a prescription for Viagra or…"

Damon sighed. "In short your friend simply wasn't hot enough and my dick lost interest. I take his lead on almost everything," Damon rose from the bed, approached Katherine, and started playing with the ends of her hair. "You should wear your hair straight more often. The curls make you look like a blow up doll."

Katherine grinned. "That's kind of the point. Besides, I'd look boring as hell with pin straight hair. I'm part Bulgarian and as such it demands I look exotic and breathtaking at all times."

"What are your plans for today other than to molest yourself repeatedly?" Damon questioned.

Katherine picked up a silver plated brush and handed it to Damon. He rolled his eyes but took it out of her hands and started brushing her hair. It was something Katherine had conditioned him to do when they were younger because she didn't feel like doing it herself.

Settling back against the chair, Katherine closed her eyes and allowed Damon's steady hands to take her away like Calgon.

"I'm heading down to Malibu. A few of the girls wanted to meet up for one last hurrah before they depart to New York to start school."

"About that," Damon looked around Katherine's immaculately furnished bedroom. "I haven't seen you pack so much as a bra. When are you planning on moving out?"

"I didn't tell you?" Katherine feigned coyly. "I decided to postpone my admission to Harvard for a year."

Damon's hand stilled upon hearing that. "Does Giuseppe know?"

"He'll figure it out eventually," Katherine replied dismissively.

Damon chuckled darkly. "You are going to be in a world of shit when he finds out."

"And once he does it'll be too late for him to do anything about it."

"Kat…I really think you underestimate what a brute our father really is. Do you think he's going to just pat you on the head and say 'Its okay sweetie'? He's going to cuss you out long and good, maybe even blow the dust off his imaginary belt he threatened to beat me with in the past. But I'd like to thank you because you've officially turned me into his favorite child."

Katherine's eyes rolled. "We've both been usurped of that title. Apparently you've been too busy staring at Bonnie's boobs to notice that stars literally dance in dad's eyes whenever he talks to Bonnie. He looks at her like the sun shines out of her ass."

Damon didn't like that implication. "Bonnie is like a new toy to dad. He'll get tired of her eventually."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Romeo. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Bonnie is his new pride and joy and it makes me want to spit nails."

"You're not a little girl anymore, Katherine. Grow the fuck up."

"And you're not thirteen jacking off under the covers to Playboy anymore, Damon. How bout you leave the little girl to get her cherry popped by someone else. She's not worthy of you."

Damon stopped brushing, leaned over Katherine until he could rest his hands on the arms of her chair. They made eye contact with one another in the mirror. "Who _is _worthy of me, Katherine?" he kissed her temple.

The girl in question sighed. "Someone who's a hell of a lot prettier for starters."

Just outside of Katherine's door, which happened to be ajar, Bonnie was glued to her spot. She had been on her way to the entertainment room to watch a movie with her mom when she heard her name being brought up in conversation. Bonnie didn't make it a habit to eavesdrop; however, she changed the script when the conversation was about her. She only caught the tail end of Damon and Katherine's discussion about which of Giuseppe's children was now his favorite. From the way Katherine was talking she made it sound as if Giuseppe had a thing for her, and that made Bonnie grimace in distaste.

Bonnie had every intention of dismissing the whole episode but changed her mind when the matter of her cherry being popped by Damon, which made fury rise in Bonnie like molten lava, came up. And then that bitch Katherine had the nerve to scoff and insult Bonnie's looks, and cite she wasn't worthy of Damon, Bonnie wanted to go postal on her ass.

No she wasn't interested in the _least _of being with Damon in _any_ sexual manner. They were about to be family! Apparently that didn't mean shit to those Salvatore brats, but it meant something to Bonnie. That was a line she wouldn't cross not even if hell froze over or if Oprah offered her a billion dollars.

Sucking her teeth, Bonnie walked off. She was fighting her nature to stomp into Katherine's room and set the both of them straight, but why waste her breath talking to a brick wall? They were going to conspire and think what they wanted about her no matter what she said in her own defense. In some situations it was just best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Bonnie found the entertainment room in the massive house. The space was designed to make one feel as if they really were going to the movies. Framed pictures of some of the greatest legends in film and TV lined the felt covered walls. Recessed lighting overhead lighted the path as Bonnie slipped through the double doors.

Her mom was already there, spreading out a blanket because it was arctic cold inside the intimate space. Overstuffed leather recliners faced a projection screen that was almost the size of a real movie theater screen. The entertainment room offered stadium seating, and Bonnie could smell freshly popped popcorn.

"What are we watching?" Bonnie asked as she plopped down in a recliner next to her mom's.

"_Pride and Prejudice."_

Bonnie whined. "Mama we've already seen that movie a million times."

"I know that but its one of my favorites. You can pick the next one. Here's the log," Abby handed over a black binder to Bonnie.

Taking the binder from her mom, Bonnie couldn't believe the number of movies the Salvatore house had to offer. Yet she could believe it. Giuseppe had almost every single movie that ever came out in the history of cinema. Good thing the book was organized by genre and then alphabetized otherwise she wouldn't know where to start looking to narrow down her choices.

As Bonnie flipped she didn't know what she was in the mood to watch. When she saw that _Columbiana _was available Bonnie figured it would be fitting to go with her mood. Zoe Saldana was one of her favorite actresses and the girl kicked major ass.

"Can we watch _Columbiana_ next?"

Abby looked doubtful. "It has too much violence for my taste but I guess it's only fair since I'm making you watch this eighteenth century love story again. For the millionth time."

Bonnie settled against the plush leather as the opening credits for the movie began. The lights automatically dimmed. Bonnie could certainly get used to this.

"Where's Giuseppe?" Bonnie asked.

"He had an emergency meeting with one of his company's distributors. He probably won't be back until tomorrow since he had to fly out to San Francisco."

Bonnie held off her questions and got lost in the drama unfolding on the big screen.

Close to three hours later, Bonnie stretched her arms above her head. She took a much needed bathroom break, while Abby set up the next movie and then left to get snacks.

When Bonnie returned she saw Damon occupying one of the leather recliners. He smiled at her. "Hello."

With everything in her, Bonnie wanted to ignore him. "Where's my mom?"

"She went to go get food. She'll be back shortly. She said not to wait for her and to start the movie," Damon then tapped the recliner next to his.

Bonnie huffed but then sat down one seat away from him. She preferred sitting in the middle. Made her feel as if she could see everything.

"You know, Bonnie my feelings are still hurt about what happened during our yachting adventure."

Pursing her lips, Bonnie turned to stare at Damon. "I apologized, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I don't think you meant it."

"Well, I'm not apologizing again. It's over and you've lost all sympathy points with me."

Damon looked at her curiously. Bonnie was being more surly towards him than usual. "If I'm not mistaken I would say you've cooked up some felony I committed against you in your head. What did I do wrong now? I've been nothing but perfectly polite to you all things considered," he said a bit defensively.

Bonnie exhaled loudly. "Look" she began sharply, "I get that you and Katherine have some weird incestuous thing going on between the two of you, but I would appreciate it if you left me out of it. I have _zero _interest in having anything 'popped'," and she used air quotation marks to emphasize her point, "by you. Okay? Keep my name out of your mouth if you have nothing nice or decent to say about me."

At first Damon's face was impassive and then slowly it morphed into amusement. Bonnie wanted to slap him and she was surprised by herself because she wasn't a violent person by nature. Yet with Damon she found herself wanting to do more and more bodily harm to him. Why? She didn't know because she seriously doubted it would have the desired effect on him.

Damon was quickly learning that Bonnie was not a docile person. She had fire, heat, passion, balls. Not many people would dare to talk to him the way she's had no problem verbally slicing his ass to pieces.

However, what she just said, she incriminated herself. Bonnie had heard his conversation with Katherine.

"I didn't take you for the kind of person who would eavesdrop on a person's conversation."

Bonnie's cheeks reddened. She was glad for the semi-darkness of the theater. "Typically I'm not, but since the two of you were talking about me in an inappropriate way…I'd just like to make things perfectly clear so there won't be any confusion in the future. My mom is marrying _your dad_. That's going to make us brother and sister. Brothers and sisters do not have sex or joke about having sex with one another. If Giuseppe is running some type of cult let me know now so I can pack me and my mom's bags and get the hell out of dodge. If not, maintain your decorum and maybe just maybe we can make this extended, blended family thing work. Sound good? Good."

The opening credits for the movie started playing to which Bonnie was grateful. She turned her head back to the screen, effectively ignoring Damon and immersing herself in the world of make believe.

Damon had no interest in watching whatever movie Bonnie had selected. He was more interested in getting under her skin, rattling her cage because that's what he loved to do. Sure she talked a good game, but it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. Damon had to amend that. He hadn't heard that before because usually the girl he chased after was some stuck up rich bitch who thought he, the son of one of the wealthiest men in America, was beneath her because she came from old money.

Money was money to Damon. He didn't give a shit if someone stole it from the monarchy in England or made their millions selling moonshine during Prohibition. Retailers certainly didn't discriminate when it came to accepting cash or credit when you stepped foot in their stores and racked up six figure tabs. If you could pay you could play. And Damon thoroughly enjoyed corrupting minds and rearranging notions people held about him.

Bonnie would be his greatest triumph yet he knew he'd have to be extremely careful and shrewd. She was smart, almost _too _smart for a sixteen year old.

Abby returned sometime later with sandwiches, chips, and bottles of water. She sat on the opposite side of Bonnie, keeping the middle chair unoccupied. Damon could have slipped out and let them have their little mother/daughter bonding moment, but annoying Bonnie with his presence provided the entertainment he had been searching for earlier.

At some point, Abby nodded off and so did Bonnie. Damon looked them both over before sliding into the seat next to Bonnie.

She was partially snuggled under a blanket. Her seat was reclined all the way back so she was lying almost supine. Damon very tentatively traced the slope of her cheek but pulled his hand back to see if she would stir. When she didn't he continued with his exploration. His finger traced the tip of her nose, her lips, and slid down her neck. The tops of her breasts were poking from the V neckline of her short sleeved shirt.

His fingers traced the slope of her soft breast and then followed that hill until he reached its peak. Moving his finger in a slow circle he smiled a bit when her nipple hardened.

That wasn't the only thing to get hard.

Bonnie stirred. She hiked the blanket over her shoulder and curled herself into a ball effectively blocking his ministrations.

Abby woke up and Damon immediately snapped to a sitting position.

She looked at him suspiciously for a moment prior to her eyes dropping to Bonnie. The movie was probably more than half way over. Abby yawned.

"I'm guessing I can stop playing this movie now since Bonnie fell asleep."

"I can take her up to her room. She's freezing in here," Damon said by indicating Bonnie's curled position on the recliner.

If Bonnie had been five years old, Abby would have done it herself. Damon was much stronger than her yet she couldn't say she trusted that Boy Scout look to his eyes.

"All right. Are you going to come back down and finish watching this or can I turn it off?"

Damon was already on his feet and scoping Bonnie up into his arms before Abby could finish asking her question. "No, you can turn it off."

He was gone seconds later.

Bonnie might have been small in size but the girl was heavy. Damon's arms were starting to burn because Bonnie's room was on the opposite side of the house, which of course made the journey seem longer than what it actually was. Eventually he made it to her room, but not without his arms feeling as if he stuck them in a stove.

Very carefully he laid Bonnie on her bed. She was a heavy sleeper was another thing he learned about her. Anyone else probably would have woken up at some point, but not Bonnie. Damon stood next to her bed peering down at her. She looked so young and sweet while she slept, but he knew better. That was a viper dressed in sheep's clothing. Forget the wolf. Bonnie moved quick, did her business, and moved out.

He wondered if he should remove his shoes and climb into bed with her. Damon decided against that because Bonnie's manicured nails looked like talons and he wasn't interested into going back to school resembling Leatherface from Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

He soon slipped out to find his kicks elsewhere.

* * *

The Kitty Kat was a high-class gentlemen establishment that opened its doors in the mid-nineties. Some of its illustrious clientele was composed of past Presidents, senators, council members, actors, judges, and of course CEO's of large conglomerates.

Damon had rubbed elbows with some of the who's who although he fell short of the age requirement. Like he said, if you could pay you could play. Membership fees almost rivaled what his father paid in private school tuition, but it was worth every penny in Damon's opinion.

With Katherine off doing what she did best, whoring around with her friends, and Bonnie reenacting Sleeping Beauty, there was no way in the world he was going to remain locked up at the Salvatore compound trying to find the most clever and least insulting way to keep Abby entertained. So Damon called up his rowdy friends and they all decided to convene in Los Angeles for a night of debauchery.

Loud music blasted from the speakers as statuesque women with inflated breasts strutted across a black stage in clear, seven inch heels. There was a crowd of men parked along the main point of the stage because Daisy, a redhead with a southern accent was currently shooting ping pong balls out of her snatch. Damon had seen this act before yet the first time he saw it literally made his head explode. Daisy had been the one to school him on the inner muscles within the female vagina and how they worked. Damon learned a woman could ride a man without moving up and down if she knew how to isolate her inner muscles.

Of course he hadn't been lucky enough to find such a woman in nature, but Daisy offered to show him. Damon hadn't taken her up on her offer—yet. He liked loose women enough, but he got the distinct impression Daisy sold herself off to the highest bidder more frequently than not.

So he hung in the back with his two friends. Damon wouldn't use the word _best _because he was the best thing walking since sliced bread, but he was with his two closest friends Jackson Whittemore and Tyler Lockwood although Tyler was his cousin.

Jackson Whittemore like Damon was ridiculously good looking to be so young. Not a day went by where his pockets wasn't being stuffed with phone numbers and underwear. He looked like the classic All-American, boy-next-door but with a dangerous appeal. He was abrupt when things didn't go his way, and had his diva tendencies, but he was loyal and that was hard to come by in their social circle.

Tyler was able to garner his fair share of love from the ladies, too. Being half Mexican half Caucasian, he was debonair but with a smart mouth. Unlike his pigmented-ly challenged friends, Tyler had olive skin, dark brown nearly black eyes, was built like a running back, and spoke three languages fluently. He was a bit of a hot head and was basically looked at as the enforcer of the crew. Damon's other friends couldn't make it since they were still vacationing abroad, but he was with the two he actually did give a damn about in his own unique way.

Scantily, damn near naked women flitted past trying to coax the trio into lap dances. Damon declined. He wasn't really interested in being too naughty tonight. The visual stimulation was enough for him. Tyler and Jackson were engulfed in their own conversation until Tyler's cell went off.

He stared down at the object in his hand—annoyed. "What is this bitch's problem? She's been blowing up my phone like we're married."

Jackson leaned over. "Who?"

"My mom."

Damon and Jackson roared with laughter and clinked their beers together.

Leaning forward, Damon placed his elbows on his knees and stared at his cousin. "Hey, show my aunt some respect."

That remark earned him a snort. "You don't even respect her," Tyler reproached.

"Yeah, 'cause she's not my mamma."

"And speaking of mom's," Jackson interjected into the conversation. "How's the new MILF on the block? She tired of Giuseppe yet? Can you give her my number?"

Damon rolled his eyes and then sat back against the padded booth of the lounge area where they were seated. "Yeah, sure once you hook me up with your sister Tabitha."

A tick began to hammer in Jackson's jaw. Tabitha was his younger, very sweet sister who's had a raging crush on Damon from the time she could crawl. Knowing his friend's reputation and the fact that he was a wham bam thank you ma'am kind of guy there was no way in hell he'd ever consent to his friend going after his sister.

Tabby was very much naïve about the world and boys though she spent plenty of time watching Jackson like a hawk. He treated girls with respect whenever she was looking so she'd know what to demand once she was old enough to start dating. However, Jackson became a different person behind closed doors. And it was that side of him he'd do everything in his power to protect Tabby from.

She didn't and then again _did_ need to know what dogs guys like him could be.

"You know I'm just messing with you, right?" Damon questioned and finished off the rest of his beer. He knew Jackson turned into a rabid pit bull if someone so much as mentioned Tabitha's name in conversation.

"That shit's not funny, Damon."

"Damon likes them young and hairless," Tyler jabbed Jackson in the ribs with his elbow.

"Now you're making me sound like a pedophile," Damon said curtly.

"We know you're not a pedophile although you have made some questionable conquests in the past. Like the pastor's daughter. How old was she?" Tyler locked eyes with Damon.

Hiding his smile, Damon held up his hand to summon a passing waitress. "She was old enough."

"I'll bet," Jackson retorted under his breath.

"Back to your original question," Damon said, "The MILF is fine. It's her daughter that's being problematic."

"Meaning she detest your guts?"

Damon pointed at his cousin. "You would be correct."

Jackson laughed at Damon's expense. "If I remember correctly she is a hot piece of ass."

Now it was Damon's turn for his jaw to tick. When he called dibs his friends knew the drill. Stay the fuck away or suffer the consequences. Don't let the pretty face fool you. Giuseppe taught Damon how to fight and no his tuition didn't follow the rules of what was acceptable in hand-to-hand combat. Although Damon never had to fight for a girl in his life, he felt things might be a tad bit different where Bonnie was concerned.

"Be careful, Jack," Tyler warned seeing the underlining fury wash over Damon's face, "you might just incite the wrath of Darth Vader over there."

"You think I'm afraid of this prick?" Jackson hitched his thumb in Damon's direction.

"This prick will fold you like a piece of paper and then recycle your ass, Jackson. Bonnie is off limits. Got it?"

"Whatever," Jackson mumbled seeing the wild and untamed look in Damon's eyes. But then Jackson's eyes lit up when his favorite exotic dancer sashayed her way to the group. She sat down on Jackson's lap and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain behind.

"Long time no see, baby," she purred in his ear. "Buy me a drink?"

"Of course but you have to take care of me tonight," Jackson said with his eyes focused on her ample cleavage that was barely contained in her corset.

The exotic dancer stood slowly and seductively, reaching for Jackson's hand and pulling him to his feet as well. He followed behind her like an obedient dog.

"I'll see you boys later," he said.

Tyler and Damon stared at one another. They already knew what was about to go down.

"Eh yo!" Tyler shouted. Jackson halted and looked at him over his shoulder. "Don't forget to wrap up the dog before you bury the bone."

Jackson flipped him the bird and continued on his merry way.

The guys weren't left feeling abandoned for long. They were swarmed by beautiful women who smelled of strong perfume, booze, sweat, and female arousal.

Damon slumped in the booth as he was gyrated on by a well endowed Latina while Tyler was being entertained by a Nubian goddess who didn't look real. Such was the life of the rich and infamous.

* * *

This was her first day of school. Already Bonnie stood hunched over the toilet waiting for her nerves to expunge the breakfast she was barely able to get down. She scolded herself for her ridiculousness knowing she had no reason to be afraid, citing nothing catastrophic would happen to her. Bonnie and Abby a few days ago had taken a private tour of the school so Bonnie would be familiar enough with her surroundings and not look like a total fish out of water.

She had met with the Dean and student body president who welcomed her to Manchester Prep with open arms. Bonnie had been impressed with the school which mostly resembled a college campus rather than a typical high school. But everything she learned and saw had seemingly vanished from her memory and Bonnie felt like she was walking blind into something.

Standing in front of her three-way mirror, Bonnie smooth her hands down her uniform. It consisted of a khaki pleated skirt that stopped several inches above her knees. A white button down quarter sleeve shirt and blue and gold striped tie finished her look. A button down navy blue sweater with the school's logo completed the look but it was far too warm to wear it.

Pushing a strand of her chocolate hair behind her ear, Bonnie wasn't sure what more she could do to either make herself stand out or blend in.

A buzzer went off in her room. Someone was paging her. Walking over to the intercom, Bonnie held down a button. "Yes?"

"Good morning."

Bonnie sighed. "How can I help you, Damon?"

"I was wondering if you could step into my room for a minute? I have a back to school gift I'd like to give you."

Bonnie nibbled on a corner of her lip. Accepting a gift from Damon was almost the equivalent of accepting a bribe. "Do I really need to come to your room to get it?"

"Yes, I'm still trying to get ready for school. It won't take long."

"Fine. But you better be decent by the time I get there." Pause. "How do I get to your room again?"

Damon chuckled and quickly rattled off directions. Bonnie committed them to memory.

Just as she got off the intercom with Damon, a knock sounded on her door.

"Come in."

Giuseppe poked his head through the opening. "Good morning, sweetheart."

A smile brightened Bonnie's face as she approached and hugged him. "Welcome back. When did you get in?"

"Very early this morning, around three a.m." Giuseppe gave her a once over in her uniform. "You look great."

Bonnie tugged self-consciously at her skirt. "I feel weird. This is my first time having to wear a uniform."

"You'll get used to it after a while. I wanted to catch you before you headed off since I missed going on the tour with you and Abby. Do you think you'll like Manchester?"

Bonnie hunched her shoulders. "That remains to be seen."

"You'll do great, Bon," Giuseppe squeezed her shoulder. "I don't want to hold you. George is ready to drive you to campus once you're ready."

"About that," Bonnie said pensively. "I was taking Driver's ED back in Virginia and I know California has all these crazy requirements…I was wondering if George might be able to teach me."

"Hmm, that shouldn't be a problem. How many hours of driving experience do you have so far?"

"Not a lot. I'm kind of rusty. Grams would let me drive around the parking lot at the supermarket but that was about it."

"Which do you want to learn to drive?" Giuseppe asked. "Manual or automatic?"

"Why not both."

Giuseppe smiled. "That's my girl. Always know how to drive both so you won't ever be unprepared because you never know what life might throw at you." Flipping his wrist to gauge the time, Giuseppe brought his eyes back to Bonnie. "I'll run it past George and he might be able to give you a lesson today after school. Do you have everything you need?"

"Yeah," Bonnie walked away to get her satchel and sweater. Then she remembered Damon said he had something for her. "I have to see Damon about something real quick. Could you tell George I'm coming?"

Giuseppe was a little startled to hear that bit of news yet played it off well. "All right, but make it quick. The ferry leaves in half an hour and the next one won't be coming for sometime. I don't want you to be late for your first day."

Bonnie nodded and then she and Giuseppe left her room.

Five minutes later, Bonnie stood outside of the double doors which led to Damon's room. She knocked and waited.

"Enter."

Bonnie pushed the door opened, made a sharp right, and headed up a short flight of stairs. Her eyes expanded. That was the only way she could take in the full scope of Damon's room which was about the size of a loft in New York City.

It was airy and open; the complete antithesis of what Bonnie imagined it would be. She expected it would look like the bat cave, since the only colors Damon wore was black and dark blue. Bonnie figured the walls would be painted black, the bed sheets would be black, that everything would be black.

That wasn't so.

His bed was a freaking monstrosity and someone of Bonnie's stature would need a ladder to climb into it. Everything was large. His mahogany desk, his plasma television. He even had a small kitchen in his room.

Looking around Bonnie didn't spot Damon anywhere. "I'm here, Damon. Where are you?"

He stepped out of a doorway to the far right. Bonnie had steeled herself not sure what state of dress or undress he might be in. Surprisingly Damon was fully dressed in his uniform. His khaki pants had a razor sharp crease in them, his white button down was starched and molded to his body like a glove. He hadn't tied his tie yet and from the looks of it hadn't combed his hair, but seeing him like this humanized him in a way.

Bonnie only took a few tentative steps closer.

Damon appraised Bonnie in her uniform. It looked good on her even though it was plain and unimaginative.

"I got you something," he said and reached for a gift bag that was sitting on the couch. He stretched it out to Bonnie.

"You didn't have to," she said yet accepted the bag. Reaching inside she pulled out a distressed leather Stella McCartney attache. Bonnie smiled while admiring the craftsmanship. "It's beautiful, Damon."

Her response was lackluster in his opinion. Damon was fully prepared to take it back. "You hate it."

Bonnie flashed her eyes up at him. "No, I don't hate it, it's just I already have a bag."

"Well you can never have too many."

Not knowing what else to say, Bonnie took a step away from him. "Thank you again. I should get going. George is waiting for me. I guess I'll see you at school."

Damon spread his lips into a smile and watched as Bonnie scurried out of his room.

Bonnie only had mere seconds to make it to the car and hopefully the ferry would still be there to tote her to Los Angeles. Her mom had stopped her in the kitchen for a quick photo-op, cutting her time even shorter.

When she finally made it outside Bonnie expected to see George and the Maybach waiting for her, but instead it was Damon seated behind the wheel of his Aston Martin convertible.

He pulled his shades down revealing those playful orbs of his. "Need a ride to school?"

Bonnie smelled a rat. She frowned at him. "Where's George?"

"George had an all-too-important errand to run for my father. He sends his apologies. Get in. We're going to miss the ferry."

Knowing her options were limited, Bonnie slid into the passenger seat. They had less than ten minutes to make it to the ferry but they were more then twenty minutes away.

Once she was buckled in, Damon turned the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, stomped his foot on the gas and sped away.

Bonnie was sure they were going to get pulled over. Damon was definitely putting the torque to use as he flew through Catalina Island like a bat out of hell. Yet even Bonnie couldn't deny it was exhilarating traveling at such high speeds with little to no impediments.

Much sooner than expected, they had arrived at the ferry with minutes to spare. Damon pulled and parked his car in one of the allotted spaces on the boat. To pass the time he and Bonnie engaged in light conversation and the minute they reached Los Angeles, Damon was back to speeding along Highway 405.

"Are you at all nervous about your first day? You're essentially fresh meat which could work in your favor or against you," Damon looked at Bonnie over the console.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I never got to experience being the new kid at school before. I've gone to school with the same people since kindergarten, so," Bonnie shrugged. "I guess I can add this to a list of experiences I don't want to repeat ever again."

Damon smirked and guided his car onto Manchester property. He had a permanent parking space which he pulled into and killed the engine. Bonnie tried her best to comb her hair back into submission.

Damon was out the car before Bonnie had the chance to unbuckle her seat belt, and was opening her door. He offered his hand to which Bonnie accepted and was pulled to her feet. Together they walked to the main hub of the campus.

"Any last minute questions before I ditch you to go talk smack with my friends?" Damon asked.

Bonnie shook her head but then one came to her. "Am I riding with you after school? Or do I need to call George?"

"No, you're stuck with me," he winked. "Have a good day, sweet pea," and with that salutation Damon was gone.

Frozen for a moment, Bonnie stood and watched as people milled about in groups of two, three, or more. Several eyes stared at her with curiosity or disdain which she wasn't sure why. Clearing her throat, Bonnie dug around in her bag for her class schedule and map. She felt like a tourist which made her cheeks scarlet over.

Looking down, Bonnie walked a few paces and ran into a muscled chest. Everything in her hands fluttered to the ground.

"I'm sorry," she dropped to her haunches to pick up her scatter papers. _Real smooth, Bonnie, _she admonished herself.

Pale white hands slithered into her line of his vision, hands that belonged to a guy. Slowly Bonnie looked up from the ground to stare at the person she ran into and the person who was helping her.

She gulped. He was gorgeous! With a face that was purely angelic with a pair of animated grayish-green eyes topped with thick, dark eyebrows, and caramel hair, Bonnie was certain she had stepped onto a movie set because no guy in high school looked this good.

Well, apart from Damon but whatever.

"I'm sorry," Bonnie's brain finally clicked and she remembered she did know how to talk after all.

"It's okay. I don't mind when a beautiful girl tries to tackle me."

Bonnie's face was blazing. She got to her feet once all of her papers were in her possession.

The unknown beefcake extended his hand. "You must be new because I would remember someone with a face like yours."

Bonnie snorted but shook the attempted flatterer's hand yet offered him what she hoped was a flirty smile. "Bonnie Bennett."

"Stefan Salvatore."

Instantly the smile vanished from her face and Bonnie dropped Stefan's hand. For his part, Stefan tried not to look offended.

"I know what you're thinking and no, I'm not related to Damon Salvatore. We unfortunately have the same last name. That's where our connection begins and ends," Stefan quickly explained.

Relief burst through Bonnie and she felt bad for judging him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sure you get that reaction a lot."

"More than I care to," Stefan replied dryly. Yet he brightened once more. "How do you know Damon if you don't mind me asking? I know his reputation proceeds him…"

"Um," Bonnie clutched her satchel to her chest. People would find out the truth soon enough if they didn't know already. "Our parents are engaged."

Stefan's eyebrows nearly lifted off his forehead. He had known Damon from the time they were in junior high and neither one cared for the other. Stefan pretty much avoided Damon like the plague and kept his nose out of his business. Fortunately Damon paid him the same respect in that area, but the two of them did bump heads occasionally and usually over something dumb and frivolous.

"Should I offer my condolences?" Stefan asked plaintively.

"I haven't decided yet," Bonnie replied dejectedly.

"Well on another note, do you know your way around? Manchester is kind of big and imposing and one can get lost easily."

Bonnie's eyes dropped to the map in her hands regretting the fact she quit Girl Scout's before she learned that particular art because knowing how to read one sure would come in handy right about now.

"I'm sure I'll be all right. If I get lost or need directions I'll just ask whoever's around."

"Or, I can be your personal tour guide. I'm one of the student ambassadors and occasionally I'm assigned a new student to show the ropes to. It should only take me a minute to get approval from my advisor to be your eyes and ears today."

Feeling flattered and embarrassed beyond imagining, Bonnie said "Oh, you don't have to do that."

Although she would like it very much. Bonnie didn't know Stefan from a can of paint but she found him easy to talk to but most of all she felt at ease, which never happened to her when she was around a good-looking guy. She was always flustered and worried that she'd make a fool of herself. Well, she kind of already did that so that erased any lingering awkwardness between them.

Stefan took her hand and wrapped it around his arm. Bonnie's eyebrow cocked in the air the minute she felt his bicep. It was rock hard and solid beneath her touch. Her slumbering inner goddess was slowly waking up since she had been in hibernation for so long.

"I insist," Stefan said and the two headed off towards the main office.

Hmm, being the new student didn't seem like it would be so bad after all.

Chapter end.

**A/N: If you watch Teen Wolf yes I'm borrowing Jackson Whittemore because in my opinion Colton Haynes is so damn fine, juicy, yummy, etc, etc and from what I've seen of his personality he would run with someone like Damon. And of course I had to incorporate Stefan into this. I purposely didn't want him to be related to Damon but I didn't want to change his last name because Salvatore is fitting and nothing else would work. So they share the same last name, no relation. Are they rivals? Do they hate each other? Well, see. More characters that we know, love, hate, feel indifferent towards will pop up in the next chapter, but I'll go ahead and tell you now there won't be any Elena or Caroline in this. I've written about them enough in my other stories and I'd like to explore some other best friend combinations for Bonnie. All right, rambled on enough. Thank you guys for reading. Love you! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who left me your thoughts last chapter, and/or read. I'm glad you guys are enjoying this naughty, taboo-ish story of mine. Here is the latest. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Damon twirled a red lollipop over his tongue as his azure eyes took in the scenery in front of him. So far his first day back hadn't been completely ratchet. His teachers were all docile enough that it would take little effort on his part to manipulate them should the time ever arrive, which knowing him it would. Damon was smart, a genius even, but he wasn't one for putting in more effort than necessary to get the job done. Some teachers deliberately sought after him to challenge his thinking, analytical, and critical thinking skills, but he was having none of that. Besides, he had much better and more effective ways of putting his beautiful mind to use.

It was the hour of his lunch break. The quad was peppered with new and old prospects. A few of the freshmen girls had already fallen under his spell with a simple wink from him. Damon had a strict rule about virgins—he wasn't in the deflowering business. Having one bad experience sat him straight so if a girl came after him she better have her shit in line because otherwise he just didn't have time for the bull crap.

However, there was one such candidate he was willing to bend his own rule for.

Damon spotted Bonnie walking on the far end of the quad as she decided which food vendor to buy lunch from. Manchester Prep didn't offer the usual run-of-the mill culinary experience when it came to cafeteria food. A student could taste cuisine from different parts of the world. If you were a fan of sushi, curry, cous cous, traditional barbeque, or even vegetarian then all of your needs were met.

His eyes never left her as Bonnie waited in line at the vegetarian stand. Damon hadn't actually paid attention to the things Bonnie liked to eat. In fact other than her looks he didn't know much about her. He had time to remedy all of that but until then he would admire her from afar.

"Thank you," Bonnie said to the cashier as she was handed a white take out-like box that was filled with a garden burger and small side salad. Armed with a bottle of V8 Pomegranate and Blueberry juice, Bonnie faced the milling crowd trying to find an empty picnic table or bench to occupy.

Stefan had been real helpful in showing Bonnie to all of her morning classes, but he had lunch at a later period and wouldn't be able to join her. Bonnie was only mildly disappointed because it would have been nice to eat with someone who was only partially a stranger. Instead she felt like she stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. Everyone around her looked engrossed in their conversation with friends they had known for years. So far, Bonnie had encountered a few and she did mean a few kind souls who didn't outright laugh in her face if she asked a simple question. She wanted to fit in but she didn't want to have to change who she was at heart to do so.

Everyone around her looked polished and privileged. Even the kids who tried hard to be different such as the Goth kids and the nerds, everyone annoyingly looked GQ.

Swallowing hard, Bonnie walked through the crowd doing her best to stay out of the way. She passed by a group of blondes who all looked like clones of one another. They were in the middle of laughing like hyenas and touching up their makeup which was already caked on to ridiculous levels. Two of them stopped their pampering to offer her a smile that was about as real as a three dollar bill. Bonnie returned it. She had been raised in the south where having manners was key. However, Bonnie was sure they were going to say something demeaning about her the minute she passed.

Across the quad, Bonnie spotted Damon. His eyes were hidden behind his shades but Bonnie could feel his penetrating gaze from miles away. He waved at her and Bonnie flashed a smile and continued off before he flagged her over.

"Looking for a place to sit?"

Bonnie spun around at the sound of the feminine voice. Her eyes landed on a girl with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was seated next to a girl of olive complexion with shoulder length wavy black hair and chocolate eyes. They were the first people who looked as out of place as Bonnie felt. There was something about the way they assessed her, not like she was competition, but like she was a kindred spirit. Still, Bonnie didn't want to jump the gun and think those two girls were any different from the other cookie cutter females who traipsed around campus who were ready to backstab and push the reigning mean girl off her dais and take her spot.

Clearing her throat and the distance that separated them, Bonnie sat down on the other side of the picnic table.

"Thanks," she said feeling her cheeks warm.

"Don't mention it. You looked lost and uncomfortable which is understandable. I've been going here for three years and I still haven't adjusted."

The brunette looked at her blonde companion. "It's hard to get comfortable when you have to wade your way through horse shit."

"So true," the blonde smiled and bumped her shoulder with the brunette. Bonnie liked them almost immediately. "Sorry for being rude," the blonde extended her hand. "I'm Lexi Branson."

Bonnie shook her hand. "Bonnie Bennett."

The brunette extended her hand to which Bonnie shook. "Meredith Sulez."

"Nice to meet you," Bonnie said earnestly. "You guys are seniors?"

Lexi nodded whereas Meredith looked bored. Bonnie noticed they had also selected to eat garden burgers. Lexi was half way finished with hers while Meredith picked at her bun.

"What year are you?" Meredith asked.

"I'm a junior. Transfer from Virginia."

"I wouldn't have guessed Virginia. You don't have an accent," Lexi remarked.

Bonnie hunched her shoulder. "Not everyone from the south has a southern accent. And before you ask, yes we have paved roads."

Lexi and Meredith laughed.

Meredith took a sip of her diet Pepsi. "How many people have asked you that asinine question?"

"Enough that I'm wondering if I could use PMS for a viable excuse to commit murder."

"Yes," Meredith and Lexi answered simultaneously.

After taking a bite of her burger and washing it down with juice, Bonnie fixed her eyes on the crowd. "So what's it like going to school here?"

"Well, it's nothing like high school on TV if that's what you're wondering," Lexi began. "Yeah, most of the kids here have wealthy parents but there's a large proportion of the student body that's on scholarship and financial aid. For the most part, it's boring but it has it moments where some scandal will rock the entire campus. And you have those douche bags over there to thank for that," Lexi pointed towards a group of guys.

Bonnie already knew who she was directing her attention to, yet she looked anyways. Damon was surrounded by ten guys it seemed. Each of them absurdly handsome all of them rowdy and making it plainly obvious they were talking about the female real estate and rating every girl who paraded by.

"Yeah and the king of them is Damon Salvatore. I swear each year he gets more outrageous and idiotic. Dude is a disrespectful whore."

Lexi patted Meredith on the shoulder. "Aww that's so sweet. You're in love with him."

To retaliate, Meredith picked up a handful of popcorn chips and tossed them at Lexi's head.

Bonnie watched their interaction feeling bemused and a little lonely. She missed her friends from back home, and wished she had been starting her senior year at Mystic Falls High instead of Manchester Prep where her socioeconomic status made her an instant outsider.

The blonde and brunette turned their attention back to Bonnie since she had grown quiet. Lexi posed a question to draw Bonnie back into the conversation. "So who have you met so far? Mere and I know just about everyone worth knowing and we can tell you if they can be trusted or not."

Bonnie licked her lips. "I guess I should tell you guys this now because word will get out soon enough."

Lexi and Meredith leaned over the table so they wouldn't miss a word.

Bonnie made reluctant eye contact with them. "My mom is engaged to Damon Salvatore's father."

And as expected their eyes enlarged until Bonnie was sure said eyes would tumble out of their sockets before they fell backwards off the bench.

"No way!" Lexi exclaimed and laughed at Bonnie's expense. "This is just too surreal. I have to tweet this."

Meredith rolled her eyes and snatched Lexi's iPhone away. "Can't you see the poor girl is distressed? Have some sympathy."

"Oh, my bad," Lexi muttered. "Really I'm sorry to hear that."

"The way everyone's been reacting by that news you'd think I was diagnosed with cancer."

Lexi made a restless motion with her shoulder. "Well…" and she deliberately didn't finish her thought.

"Ignore, Lexi, she didn't take her anti-psychotic meds today. Who else have you met?"

"Stefan Salvatore," Bonnie admitted and ignored the little flutter she felt deep in her belly.

"Seems you're a magnet for guys with the last name Salvatore. He is a hottie," Lexi said.

"Yes, he is," Meredith concurred almost dreamily.

Bonnie's eyebrows rose at that while she stared at Meredith who realized what she did and quickly averted her attention back to her untouched garden burger.

Lexi rolled her eyes towards her lifelong friend. She and Meredith had practically grown up in the same crib. They already made plans to apply to the same colleges and room together. They weren't simply just friends but sisters. Had gone through good times, bad times, and really bad times together, but they stuck it out with each other through thick and thin. The two besties had promised to take each others secrets to the grave.

"You'll have to excuse Meredith. Her panties have been wet for Stefan since we were in middle school. They kissed once on a dare I might add and she's been fienin' for him like a crack head ever since. Though she'd be loathed to admit it."

"Let's not go there with the unrequited crushes, Lex," Meredith snapped. "Don't act you didn't poke holes in the condom in order to trap Jackson Whittemore."

Bonnie watched as Lexi's cheeks flushed and she knew it wasn't from embarrassment but anger.

"That is blasphemy," Lexi raged. "You take that shit back right now or I swear to God this friendship is over."

"I only speak the truth. And I've been shopping for a new best friend for years now anyways," Meredith added. "Bonnie, are you available?"

The two girls glowered at one another before they dissolved into a fight of laughter.

It was official, Bonnie thought, they were insane, but clearly they loved and cared for another very much.

Lexi was the first to regain her composure. "Sorry, but we've been in therapy on improving our communication," she cleared her throat. "So other than the delicious Stefan Salvatore, who else have you encountered?"

Bonnie rattled off three more names and Lexi and Meredith gave those individuals lackluster approval.

"Hello ladies," a newcomer said.

Craning her neck to stare at the guy who casually strolled up to their table, Bonnie gulped audibly. He was sandy blonde with clear blue eyes, a swimmer's build, and smelled like Calvin Klein cologne. Bonnie noticed that Lexi immediately clammed up. Meredith stared at the unidentified stranger impassively yet sent a sly, self-satisfied smirk Lexi's way who all of a sudden grew interested in finishing her food.

"Hey, Jackson," Meredith broke the silence. "Had a good summer?"

Jackson shrugged his shoulders but his eyes were still planted on Bonnie. He extended out a hand. "You're new."

"You're very observant," Bonnie retorted dryly yet shook his hand.

Jackson flashed a crooked smile and then sat down next to Bonnie yet he faced the crowd. "You might want to find new eating companions. Those two are trouble."

"No more trouble than _you _are," Lexi accused. "What are you even doing over here, Jackson? Don't you refer to this part of the campus the welfare half of Manchester Prep? We'd hate to infect you with our dependency on government assistance."

Jackson shifted so he could make eye contact with Lexi. She was beautiful with a bitchy attitude. They banged often back in the day. He got over it and moved on, but Lexi actually thought he wanted a relationship. Tough titty for her because Jackson wasn't the settling down type.

"Could you close your mouth and stop stealing all the oxygen?" Jackson threw at her.

Inwardly, Bonnie thought was there _one_ person on this campus who wasn't an asshole?

Meredith knew Lexi was about to go off on him, and prompted her to get up. Besides their lunch hour was coming to a close in minutes anyways.

"Come on, Lex. Let's head to the bathroom before the bell rings. Bonnie you coming?"

Jackson interjected, "You two run along. I haven't properly introduced myself to Bonnie yet."

"You're not worth being introduced," Lexi practically snarled at him. "You're not a person. You don't even have a soul."

Jackson winked at Lexi. It tickled him immensely that he was still able to get under her skin. "Living in the past keeps you from reaching your future, Lexi. I suggest you deal with your shit and stop harboring resentment towards me. You're going to need plastic surgery a lot sooner if you keep frowning that way."

Lexi nearly lunged over the table, but Meredith managed to stop her. Bonnie was too enthralled and had no idea if she should be offended on Lexi's behalf despite the fact she just met her, or to keep quiet hoping the situation would diffuse and not blow out of proportion.

Meredith turned to Bonnie looking slightly apologetic. She was used to this routine whenever Jackson and Lexi interacted. She was no fool. Meredith knew they both sort of still had a thing for one another but were too stubborn to admit it.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Bonnie. If you ever need some company at lunch, you know where to find us. We sit here almost everyday."

"I'll keep that in mind and thanks for extending the invite."

Jackson snorted while Bonnie watched them stomp away. Bonnie then brought her attention to Jackson. If the purpose of him coming over was to antagonize Lexi then he would be added to her mounting list of people she wanted no contact with.

"I'm sorry about that," Jackson turned the force of his gaze on her.

"I don't really think you are. I should get going." Bonnie stood up from the bench and collected her trash.

Jackson got to his feet as well and took Bonnie's trash from her hands and dumped it in a nearby receptacle.

"We should start over," Jackson cleared his throat and placed a hand on his chest. "Hi, my name is Jackson Whittemore. I'm a friend of your soon-to-be step brother Damon Salvatore, and I just wanted to personally welcome you to Manchester Prep. I tutor in chemistry and English so if you ever need help, please feel free to hit me up. I can give you my number."

Bonnie laughed humorlessly. "Thanks, but seeing as how I'm a 4.2 student I don't think I'll need tutoring." Jackson looked impressed and a little floored because he didn't think anyone could have a GPA higher than a 4.0.

The bell chose that precise moment to ring.

Jackson kicked a few rocks around with his shoes. "Okay, point taken, point made. You're a _very _beautiful girl, Bonnie."

Bonnie opened up her mouth to respond when she noticed a dark shadow was emerging.

"That she is and she's going to be a late beautiful girl if she doesn't hustle to her next class."

Jackson spared Damon an annoyed look. Yeah, Damon had told him to stay away from Bonnie, but what Damon failed to realize was that Jackson did whatever the hell he wanted. Others might be willing to follow Damon around blindly and take his orders, but Jackson was his own person.

The two seniors sized one another up. Their impromptu threesome was drawing attention and Bonnie was more than ready to get to class. Luckily for her she spotted Stefan heading towards her. An instant smile bloomed on her face to which he returned.

She stepped from the middle to meet Stefan half way. It took a second for Jackson and Damon to realize she had fled.

"Hey," Stefan locked gazes with Bonnie before momentarily looking at Damon and Jackson. Both glared at him. Stefan had no problems showing them all his teeth in return.

"Hi, your presence is right on time. Those two are idiots."

"Of the highest grade."

Bonnie bit a corner of her bottom lip. "Are you here to escort me to my next class?"

Stefan smiled and bowed a little before her. "I most certainly am. Let's go," he stretched out his arm to which Bonnie readily accepted.

Damon watched them stroll away as if they were Ken and Barbie. He clamped a hand on Jackson's shoulder and squeezed with all his might. Jackson winced but that was all.

"I thought we had discussed you would keep your dick and hands as far away from Bonnie as possible? I'm sure I wasn't the only one who was apart of that conversation."

"Damon, you can get ass from any chick in this school. Except that one," Jackson pointed at Bonnie's retreating back. "So suck it up. And stop trying to cock block."

"I can say the same for you, Jackson. And you know you shouldn't fight with your future baby mama. It doesn't look cute."

Jackson's nostrils flared at the implication that his future would be entangled with Lexi Branson. That shipped sailed, burst into flames, and fucking sank.

Damon grinned and winked at his friend before pivoting on his heels and marching off to his next class.

* * *

There weren't many times Katherine wanted to get eaten by a black hole but this was turning out to be one of those times. Giuseppe paced angrily back and forth in front of her as he berated her for not going off to Harvard like the good, obedient girl she stopped being a long ass time ago, and of course for keeping it a massive secret from him.

Imagine his surprise to find Katherine sunbathing near the outdoor pool when she should have been thousands of miles away setting up her apartment in Boston to start her first semester as a potential Harvard graduate. Furious. Incensed. Outraged were just some of the adjectives Giuseppe would use to describe the feeling of his head exploding upon stumbling across Katherine who appeared to have not a care in the world.

"You have done some pretty outlandish things, Katherine but this takes the fucking cake! What do you have to say for yourself? Hum? You love running that mouth of yours and you have nothing to say now!"

Katherine toyed with her fingers before daring to make eye contact with her father. Giuseppe had a notorious temper, she had always been aware of that. When she would sneak into his office and listen to him tear down his employees self-esteem as if he were demolishing an old building, Katherine remembered sitting there in awe hoping she could be that fearless one day with no fucks to give. She studied her father like he was the SAT prep book and learned a lot to which she happily applied to real life situations. Because of that people knew not to cross her and if they did, they knew to run and hide.

It was public knowledge that saying 'sorry' wasn't going to cut it. Not with Giuseppe and especially not when he was like this. Yet she stared into his blue eyes unflinchingly, the way he taught her.

"I was going to break it to you, dad but you've been running around with your new…fiancé and her daughter and the time never seemed right. I mean, what's the big deal? It's only a year. I want to be here for you and the wedding."

Giuseppe scoffed. "There's no reason for you to insult my intelligence by pretending to be interested in my wedding and subsequent marriage to Abby. You haven't shown an ounce of interest in getting to know her or Bonnie since they've been here. I told you Kat, never attempt to bullshit a professional bullshitter. Try again and tell the truth this time."

Katherine sighed audibly. "Fine. I just didn't want to go and leave you and Damon. I'm not ready to start school."

Shaking his head, Giuseppe ran a hand over his face. He knew the _real _reason Katherine didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave and then ultimately be replaced by Abby and Bonnie. Katherine was confident yet at the same time she could be infuriatingly insecure. Growing up without her mother had done some internal damage she probably wasn't aware of, and Margie, his second wife, tried to do the best she could by Katherine, but Katherine was obstinate in not getting close to another female, and basically made Margie's life hell.

"I've never known you to be afraid to do anything, Katherine. I didn't teach you to indulge in fear. I taught you to grab life by the horns, crush toes and never apologize, but only if you're in the wrong. You were deceptive about this whole thing which is inexcusable. Do you have any idea of the amount of money I've put into paying off your first year, and that expensive ass apartment you insisted on? No? We'll you're going to find out."

Katherine gulped. She didn't like where this was going.

"You're not going to lie around this house and work on your tan all day. You're going to get a job."

"All right."

"And let me burst your bubble right now and tell you that Salvatore Industries will not be hiring you. Not even to scrub the toilets."

Katherine's mouth plopped open. Her plan went up in smoke. Using her name alone would have been a shoe in, in securing some position with her dad's company. He must have been reading her mind like a book.

"You want to fuck around with your future, that's on you, but you won't be mooching off of me while you do so. Get out there like the millions of other people looking for work, and get a job on your own clout. You have three weeks to do this or you're out of here."

"Three weeks!" Katherine shrieked and bolted from the chair she had been sitting in. "You can't possibly expect me to find a job in three weeks in this economy. Come on, dad, be reasonable!"

Giuseppe pointed at her. "No, _you_ be reasonable. You're future was set yet you decided to throw it all away so you can sit around and play your little games. I might have turned the other cheek to your behavior in the past but no more."

"It's her isn't it?" Katherine accused. "The reason you're coming down like this on me is because you're trying to impress your stupid fiancé."

Giuseppe's laugh was dry and humorous. "Abby has nothing to do with this so don't bring her into this conversation. You are _my_ child and you'll do as _I_ say. You know where the door is if you have a problem with it."

The father/daughter pair glared at one another.

"Three weeks," Giuseppe reminded Katherine. "I suggest you start now." He left her to stew.

Katherine was seeing all colors of the rainbow. She couldn't believe it! Giuseppe expected her to find a job in three weeks. Katherine likened herself to a miracle worker, but there was no way in the world she could pull something like this off. Not with such a small window of time to do it.

She cursed and picked up her cell phone. She had options and resources, she just needed to buckle down and see which of her friends' parents might be willing to show mercy and take her under their wing. Katherine's first option would have been the Mikaelson's but since Damon rejected Rebekah, Katherine figured that bridge was already burned.

"This is some gotdamn bullshit," Katherine seethed. She left the sitting room, and marched back towards her bedroom. She ran into Abby.

"Sorry," Abby mumbled.

Katherine turned the fury of her whiskey-colored eyes on the woman. "I bet you're snickering like a pig in slop right about now."

Abby blinked prior to her eyes narrowing. "Excuse me, little girl?"

"Excuse me, little girl," Katherine mocked. "I hope he comes to his senses and send you and your broke ass daughter back to the country where you belong."

Abby had never hit a child in her life. Bonnie had been a good girl and easy to raise. All you had to do to get her in line was give her the evil eye and raise your voice and she shaped up. But Katherine was another matter altogether and the bitch needed to be brought down a peg or two or ten.

Abby stepped to her. "I don't know who you think you're talking to but you will show me respect, Katherine. Talk to me like that again and I'll have no problems slapping you into the middle of next week, and kicking your ass on Thursday. Just try me."

Katherine smirked. "Whatever. I don't have time for your shit."

"And I don't have time for yours." Abby brushed past Katherine, deliberately ramming her shoulder into the insolent little girl. "Oh, and good luck on finding employment."

* * *

The day was over to which Bonnie was thankful. After withstanding probing and curious stares from the vast majority of the student body, Bonnie hoped her novelty had worn off and she could dissolve in the crowd. Manchester Prep was in many ways like Mystic Falls High. It was boring. The teachers were dull and pretentious; the students left a lot to be desired.

Stefan had been of a big help showing her around and trying to get her acclimated as much as possible. She wouldn't exactly haul off and call him a friend, but he was a friendly face in a sea of strangers, and someone she actually wanted to get to know.

Meredith and Lexi were interesting to say the least. Each one seemed to have an explosive personality that might mesh with Bonnie's. The jury was still out if she wanted to make them her official lunch buddies, but hanging with them for thirty-five minutes would be much better than eating alone.

Bonnie hadn't seen much of Damon around campus outside of seeing him at lunch, yet plenty of tongues had been wagging about him. This came from both the male and female population. Either guys wanted to be him or hated his guts, or the girls creamed their panties if he so much as blinked at them. Bonnie couldn't understand the appeal all that much. Sure he was nice enough to look at, but Bonnie just knew she had yet to meet the real Damon Salvatore.

So here she was, heading to the parking lot. Damon was there standing next to his car, shedding his blazer and tie.

"Hey," she said and dumped her satchel on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

"Hey," Damon replied. "So how was your first day? I see you've already made yourself a campus spouse."

Bonnie frowned. "I'm going to assume you're referring to Stefan?"

Damon shrugged yet it was taking everything in him to remain as cool about this whole thing as possible. There was no need to show he was pissed about the situation. It was something Damon was sure he could nip in the bud.

"He's a nice, safe guy, a veritable saint among sinners," Damon mocked.

"Which means you can't stand him because he always seems to capitalize on the girls you really want."

Was she clairvoyant now? Damon's eyes crinkled around the corners yet he wouldn't give anything away. "You shouldn't flatter him like that, Bonnie. He and I aren't even in the same stratosphere. No seriously, how was your first day?"

"It was a day," Bonnie arms flopped in the air. "There was nothing which stood out except for meeting Stefan of course," she smiled brightly.

_Ugh, _Damon thought and looked away.

Knowing it was bothering him immensely Bonnie proceeded to gush about Stefan. "And you're right, he _is_ nice, but he's also funny and charming. He was a big help today, taking time out of his schedule to show me around."

"Good for him," Damon grumbled. Bonnie's smile deepened.

Now it was Damon's turn to brighten because one of his future prospects was headed right for him. Her name was Svetlana, a transfer from Russia. She was tall, busty, and from what Damon had been able to gather she wasn't adverse to anal pleasure.

Bonnie saw the stupid grin on Damon's face, and diverted her attention to the source. She watched as some blond Amazon strolled right past her like she wasn't standing there, the girl's entire focus locked on Damon. When the two were in reaching distance of one another, Svetlana eagerly wrapped her arms around Damon's neck, his going around her lithe waist as the two proceeded to slob one another down.

Bonnie couldn't believe but then again she could believe that Damon would kiss that girl like that in front of her. Shamelessly and without censor. Bonnie grew interested in studying the pavement suddenly. Their kissing noises were making her slightly nauseous but she wouldn't give Damon the satisfaction of letting him see her squirm.

Svetlana pulled away and attempted to lick her lipstick residue off Damon's lips, but he turned his head away very much cognizant of Bonnie standing not five feet from them. Inwardly he beamed sensing how uncomfortable she was yet was doing an admirable job in appearing unaffected.

They began speaking to one another in Russian. Bonnie couldn't feel more excluded.

Damon was aware his actions were disrespectful but this was all part of his plan. People typically wanted what they couldn't have, so if he pumped himself up as unavailable in Bonnie's eyes, she just might start to see things his way and come around the corner.

"Hey, Bonnie," Stefan called as he walked to his car. His eyes played a quick game of ping pong as they volleyed between Damon and his new chew toy and Bonnie who was trying her best not to look constipated due to the scene playing out in front of her.

Thankful for the reprieve, Bonnie eagerly walked over to Stefan. Although they had seen one another off and on all day, Bonnie still felt as if she were being smacked with a ton of bricks whenever she stared up into his face. Bonnie wouldn't go so far as to call him perfect. But his face was damn near symmetrical. There was an openness and honesty to his eyes that Bonnie found refreshing and very rare in her new environment.

"Hey Stefan," Bonnie finally said. "You must have a special radar built-in that can sense when I'm feeling uncomfortable or trapped."

Stefan tucked an errant stand of hair behind Bonnie's ear. His fingertip barely grazed her skin but it was enough to cause Bonnie to lose her ability to form a coherent thought.

"I wouldn't say that necessarily. I just like being around you, and I'll use any excuse to my advantage."

Bonnie couldn't help her blush anymore than she could help the sun rising.

Stefan smiled encouragingly seeing a rosy tint color her cheeks. "Do you need a ride home? It would appear Damon is preoccupied at the moment."

Bonnie looked over her shoulder to see that Damon was still heavily engrossed in his conversation. She turned back to face Stefan. "I live on Catalina Island."

An uncertain look flashed on Stefan's face. "I live in the city."

"Oh," Bonnie's hope was dashed.

"But I do have an aunt who lives on the island that I haven't seen in a while. Yet, I'm not sure if she's actually in town."

"No, Stefan I can't ask you to go out of your way to take me home. I'd feel bad and the cost of gas is so high, you shouldn't waste it." Bonnie stopped talking when she noticed Stefan was biting his lips to keep from laughing out loud. Her embarrassment was flirting with anger by this point. She didn't like being made fun of.

As if he could sense the nature of her thoughts, Stefan placed his hand on her shoulder. "No, I wasn't laughing at you, but not many girls care about saving a guy gas money. You're just…"

"Different," Bonnie supplied.

To Stefan's ears the way she said it you'd think she had leprosy. "Different is good. It's refreshing actually because too many girls emulate one another it's old and boring. I don't mind the drive."

Bonnie shifted on her feet. She didn't want to be an inconvenience and she really didn't know Stefan all that well to just hop in his car. Her mother taught her to trust and listen to her instincts, and so far no alarms were going off in her head about Stefan. Yet one could never be too careful.

"No, I should wrestle Damon away from his…friend," she lamented. "Thank you for today."

Taking Bonnie's right hand, Stefan brought it up and kissed it. "It was definitely my pleasure."

Heat and warmth began to spread through Bonnie's extremities and she felt rooted to the spot. For no reason she began grinning goofily. "Okay I should go."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Stefan said hopefully his grayish-green eyes dazzling at her, putting her under a spell.

Bonnie nodded and began walking back towards Damon's car but not without looking at Stefan over her shoulder multiple times.

Damon was sitting behind the wheel by the time Bonnie moved her ass back to the car. His shades were on once again hiding the power of his gaze. He followed her movements as she slid onto the leather seat and reached for her seatbelt. Her skirt rose and hit her about mid-thigh to which Damon greedily devoured her caramel skin before they rested on the apex of her body.

There was tension in the car. Bonnie grappled with if it was her place to say anything to Damon about his PDA or to just ignore it. She didn't want him to think she was jealous because he would take that notion and run with it.

For his part, Damon wanted to grill her tail about how involved was she looking to get with Stefan Salvatore. Stefan was the epitome of everything Damon hated. He was polite to strangers, everyone fell in love with his ass almost on sight, he was smart, and was an all-around stand up guy. Trust and believe, Damon tried to dig up dirt on that fucker but he couldn't find shit. No one was zest fully clean, especially not in their world.

Bonnie could sense Damon wanted to question her about Stefan. She looked at him. "Are we just going to sit here in the parking lot? I have wedding things to do with my mom. She's expecting me home by a certain time."

"Calm your tits, princess. I'll get you home soon enough."

Grinding her teeth, Bonnie ignored Damon for the entirety of the ride home.

* * *

Closing the door to his room, Damon wasn't terribly surprised to find Katherine camped out on his bed attired in a dress that was nothing but black lace and satin. Katherine leaned up on her elbows and studied Damon as he shrugged out of his button down and shucked off his white wife beater.

"You're pouting about something. What happened now? Were you denied access to Neiman Marcus?"

Katherine rolled her eyes and craned her neck backwards. "Dad found out that I've postponed going to Harvard. He blew up and ordered me to find a job in three weeks or I'll be forced to move out."

Damon stared silently at Katherine for a moment allowing her revelation to penetrate before he laughed mercilessly. "I told you, Kat but you didn't want to listen. Sucks to be you, dude."

Katherine gawked fiercely at Damon. "I didn't come here to hear 'I told you so'. I need you to talk to dad and convince him to give me more time. I can talk myself out of a speeding ticket, or into someone's final will and testament, but I can't talk dad out of something like this. You have to help me."

Damon took a seat behind his desk and fired up his computer. "What pull do you think I have with him? He'll see right through my petition which could make things much worse for you."

Nibbling her lip Katherine had to concede that Damon had a point. Nevertheless it wouldn't hurt to try. Sliding off the bed, Katherine slithered her way to Damon and stood behind his chair. Her hands instantly reached for his shoulders and she began to massage his lean muscles.

"Please, Damon," she purred. "If you help me with this…I'll convince Bonnie that you aren't the devil incarnate and to give you a chance."

Now Damon knew she was desperate. Katherine would rather get an enema than to help him screw another girl under the same roof where she laid her head no less. When something sounded too good to be true, most of the time it was.

Damon shrugged Katherine's hands off him and cricked his neck. "I don't need your help in that department, Kat, but thanks for the offer."

"You're unbelievable."

"Pot calling the kettle," Damon replied in a sing song voice.

Hand perched on her hip, Katherine kept her gaze locked on the back of Damon's head. "You're seriously not going to help me? You rather Giuseppe kick your favorite and only _real _sister out on the street? I thought you loved me and cared about my well-being, Damon."

At that time Damon swiveled his chair to look up at his big sister. No matter the time of day Katherine was always polished and coiffed as if she were about to head to a cocktail party. It was one of the things he loved about her.

Katherine closed the distance between them, standing between his legs, smiling wickedly at him.

"Please, Damon," she whimpered almost pathetically.

Sighing in defeat, Damon nodded his head. "I'll talk to dad but I'm not making any promises it will work."

Katherine threw her arms around Damon effectively pressing his face into her belly. She kissed the crown of her head. "Thank you. See, this is the reason why I love you."

Grabbing her by the hips, Damon gently pushed her away and got to his feet. "You should love me regardless of doing your dirty work for you."

Damon didn't move a muscle when Katherine cupped his cheeks, rose on her toes, and lightly kissed his mouth.

"I do love you," she bored into his baby blues with her whiskey-colored eyes. "So much it hurts sometimes."

"Love is never painless," Damon mumbled softly.

Katherine smiled again. "No, it's not. When are you going to talk to dad?"

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tonight, tomorrow, next week. I don't know Katherine. He's probably still irritated with you so that means he's going to need time to cool off. If I go to him now, he's not going to listen to anything I have to say."

Huffing, Katherine backed off of Damon and crossed her arms under her breasts feeling displeased with his lack of initiative. "Well, don't let too much time pass. I only have three weeks. Please try to keep that in mind."

"Or," Damon moved beyond Katherine to head to his bathroom, "you could just bypass all this getting a job bullshit, move out into your own place, and finagle your way to getting access to your trust fund."

"Nope, I'm sticking around because I don't like or trust Abby. That woman has rubbed me the one wrong way and thrown down the gauntlet. Her ass will be toast by the time I'm done with her," Katherine fluffed out her hair. "I expect results, Damon. Soon."

Damon rolled his eyes towards his demanding older sister and watched as she left his room as if she were a queen who had just issued an edict.

The next time Damon left his room it was to enjoy the creature comforts of the indoor pool. Only by the time he arrived he wasn't alone. Bonnie was there taking full advantage. He stood and observed her doing laps and saw she was a very good swimmer. He didn't waste another minute, he dove into the pool.

Bonnie stopped swimming and looked around. She had the sense that she wasn't alone, yet she couldn't see anyone. Then suddenly she screamed when arms wrapped around her waist and she was hoisted in the air and then subsequently dunked head first back into the water.

Bobbing to the surface, Bonnie pushed her hair off her face and glowered at Damon.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Are you always this uptight? I was only trying to have some fun."

Breathing heavily, Bonnie put some distance between them. "You scared me."

"My apologies. I thought you had nerves of steel."

Bonnie said nothing to that.

"Do you want to race?" Damon wiggled his eyebrows.

Bonnie's answer was automatic. "No!"

He splashed her trying his best not to look annoyed. "Loosen up will you. You're not going to be sentenced to hell if you allow yourself to enjoy my company. Despite our rocky start, I really am a fun guy to be around."

"I'm sure you are but I don't know how to take you sometimes, Damon."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…you treat girls like objects but then you try to act like a gentleman around me. Either you respect women or you don't. You can't do both and think that it's funny or cute. I just feel like…you're putting on an act. Is it because you're rich, bored, what?"

Damon shrugged and began to float closer to Bonnie, holding her captive with his gaze. "I don't fit into any type of mold, Bonnie and something tells me you don't either. I'm young, slightly irresponsible. So sue me. It's not the end of the world."

"I know that," Bonnie murmured quietly.

Damon was now running his hand up her arm. Bonnie jerked against his touch. Her eyes narrowed. With her slightly distracted, Damon pushed a few strands of hair that was plastered on her cheek away.

"Let's have some fun," Damon encouraged. "Race me."

Bonnie looked uncertain for a minute. "Are prizes involved?"

Hmm, Damon thought as several filthy ideas traipsed through his mind. "Sure. If you win what would you like? A back massage?"

"No, I want to drive your Aston Martin."

"Come again?" Damon sputtered. "Do you even know how to drive stick?" He held up a hand. "Do you even have a license?"

"Well, no, not at the moment."

"Then on that note, hell no."

Bonnie whined. "Come on, Damon. Okay, fine if I win…and once I have my license and know how to drive stick, you'll let me drive the Aston Martin."

That was easy enough for Damon to agree too considering it took him a year or so to master driving stick, and by that time, Bonnie could have the Aston Martin as Damon was sure he'd have a brand new one by then.

"Okay deal. Now if I win…I want a kiss."

Bonnie's eyes enlarged. "You're sick. I think we both know you've gotten enough kisses today. Pick something else."

Was that jealousy in her tone, Damon wondered. It probably wasn't but there was no need for him to rain on his own parade. "The placement of the kiss can be of your choosing. I'm not picky," Damon grinned.

Bonnie sighed. He had agreed to let her drive his car so a kiss paled in comparison, and he was letting her choose were to lay one on him. This really was a win-win for Bonnie when she thought about it.

"All right, _but _the agreement is, I get to pick where you get…kissed," she tried not to grimace.

"And it has to last for ten seconds," Damon added hastily.

"Fine."

"We should shake on this," Damon suggested.

Bonnie agreed and the two linked hands and shook. Climbing out of the pool, they stood on the edge.

"The first one to swim a hundred meters is the winner," he looked at Bonnie who nodded. "On your mark, get set, go!" Damon said and dove into the pool.

Bonnie was a fast swimmer but she was tiny compared to Damon. Yet she kicked her legs and moved her arms the best way she could hoping she was in the lead, but it was difficult to tell. Bonnie pushed off from the wall once she reached it, and continued to swim back. Sensing that the finish was close, Bonnie gave her all and touched the wall. Her head popped out of the water but to her dismay Damon was already there.

"Gotdamnit," she swore.

Damon reached for her hand and pulled Bonnie out of the water. He couldn't stop smiling if his life depended on it.

They stood facing one another, dripping wet, with sodden hair. "So where are you going to kiss me?"

"Best two out of three?" Bonnie asked hopefully.

Damon shook his head. "That wasn't the arrangement. A deal is a deal, Bonnie. It's time to put your lips where your money is."

"Come here," Bonnie grumbled. Damon eagerly cleared the distance separating them and waited to follow Bonnie's lead.

Bonnie cupped him by the back of his neck, lowered his head as she stood on her toes. Her lips touched his cheek and remained glued there while she counted to ten Mississippi in her head.

Her lips were soft and of course Damon imagined how they would feel wrapped around his dick. He kept his hands to himself and didn't whimper when Bonnie pulled back.

"I hope you're happy," she said.

"I am. But next time I'm sure we can find an even better place to put that-Whoa!" Damon said not a second later as he was pushed backwards into the water.

Bonnie wiped her hands clean, grabbed her towel, and strutted towards the exit.

Damon burst through the surface of the water and frowned at Bonnie. "Goodnight, sweet pea!"

Chapter end.

**A/N: Not happy with this chapter. Ugh, hate when that happens. I'm going to try to get more in the wedding and things that will be happening on that front. I decided to keep Meredith's last name Sulez because that's what she's called in the books, and she's supposed to be Hispanic but as you know she's a Fell on the show. More deviousness is to come, stay tuned. Love you guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi all! I know, no excuses about why it took so long to update. You know the drill with me by this point. Here is the latest. Just a little spoiler, there is a fair amount of Stefonnie, but of course Bamon as well. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

The wedding of the century it had been dubbed was only a handful of days away. The Salvatore compound was in an uproar of wedding planner assistants, caterers, contractors, vendors, special guests flown in from halfway around the world. There were wedding favors to be wrapped, seating charts to finalize, wedding gifts to organize and catalogue, and Abby Bennett was the social director of it all.

Bonnie oversaw the bridesmaids' gown alterations with her mom, gave her input where she deemed was necessary, but otherwise stuck to her tablet sending out reminder emails to her mom's best friend and her favorite aunt about the upcoming bridal shower. Because Bonnie wasn't of age she wouldn't be attending the bachelorette party which was set to take place somewhere in LA. That was fine with her because in her humble opinion there was nothing worse than hanging around a bunch of tanked, middle-aged man bashers.

Taking the back corridors leading to her bedroom to get a moment of peace from the madness, Bonnie huffed in exasperation when she spotted Damon loitering on her bed, playing with her favorite stuffed animal.

She didn't even have the energy to tell him to get lost. Instead, she ignored him, strolled over to her desk to charge her tablet, and maybe get started on her American Government homework. Just the thought alone made her want to gag.

"What? No reprimand for being in your room uninvited?" Damon teased when the silence between them prolonged way past what was decent.

Bonnie glanced at him. "I rather waste my breath on something important."

Damon's eyes narrowed at the jab and tossed the fluffy bear aside. "How's the wedding planning coming along?"

"It's coming. You have your final alteration with Ramone this Friday at two. Will you please be on time for that?"

"Ramone knows my measurements inside and out. I technically don't have to be there. He's been designing my suits since I was like…ten years old."

"Yeah," Bonnie murmured listlessly, "you're not ten anymore."

"So you noticed?" Damon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Bonnie pursed her lips and headed into the bathroom. "Always fishing for a compliment are we?" she asked.

Damon bounced off the bed and joined Bonnie in her washroom. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. She was in the middle of cleaning out her contacts.

"Don't tell me those lovely green eyes aren't real," he mocked scandalized.

"They're very much a product of nature, but unfortunately I'm almost legally blind."

"Why not get Lasik eye surgery?"

Bonnie shivered just at the thought of some laser pulverizing her eyeballs into dust or until they exploded in some freak accident during the procedure. "I've thought about it…but I don't know."

Damon was fully prepared to continue their conversation, however, Bonnie's cell phone starting ringing. She slipped past him and retrieved it off the end table next to the bed. An instantaneous smile split her face apart and she answered with unbridled giddiness.

"Hi Stefan!"

Damon moaned under his breath as his lapis lazuli eyes went heavenward. _This douche_, he thought and had every intention of listening in on Bonnie's conversation. For her own good—of course.

Since he couldn't hear what Stefan was saying he had to piece together their conversation from Bonnie's point of view.

"You're in Catalina?...No I'm not doing anything…sure. Do you know how to get here? Okay. I'll be ready by then. Okay, cool. See you in half an hour."

Hanging up Bonnie was two seconds away from doing a happy girl dance when she noticed a black spot on the wall in the form of Damon Salvatore. She frowned at him as she tossed her phone on the bed and raced into her closet.

"Soo…" Damon began tentatively, "I guess it's safe to assume you're going somewhere with Stefan?"

"Un-hun," Bonnie replied distractedly as she eyed several pieces in her opulent closet that was bursting with every single label imaginable.

Her clothes from Virginia had arrived a couple of days after she touched down in California, and were mixed in with the selected items the personal shoppers Giuseppe had hired to supplement her wardrobe. In her excitement she forgot to ask Stefan how she should dress: casual, semi-formal, or formal. Being it was only Wednesday she opted for casual. There were a few upscale restaurants on the island, and she could only assume Stefan had deep pockets like the majority of those who attended Manchester Prep, and might take her somewhere fancy. But again, attending Manchester wasn't an indicative marker of someone's wealth or lack thereof. She certainly was no heiress, and to outsiders they would say she was benefitting from her mom's good luck in nabbing one of the wealthiest men in the world. Bonnie realized she was putting far more thought into this than she should, and settled on wearing a simple pair of distressed jeans and a dressy blouse.

Damon, with a shrewd eye, carefully watched the articles of clothing that Bonnie had chosen. For a first date she was going the safe route in keeping things casual. That was all fine and good if she were still in Virginia. Here in California, even if you were going to the grocery store, you still dressed to the nines because you never know where and when the paparazzi might be stalking you. Ending up on the worst dressed list could kill your reputation or earn you a stigma that would be hard to shake.

He couldn't let her go out like that.

Bonnie would learn all of that soon enough and adapt. He could push his personal feelings and issues with Stefan aside and step in and help out his "little sister".

As Bonnie stood in front of the three-way mirror holding up the blouse while biting her bottom lip, she gasped as the garment was ripped out of her hands and replaced with a beaded corseted top.

She frowned as she stared at the top. "Am I going to a rock concert?" she snorted.

He ignored the solar flares shooting from her eyes, as he replaced the jeans she selected with another pair designed by True Religion; he also picked out a black blazer with those pointy shoulders that were all the rage these days. For shoes, he went for the gold studded Gucci pumps.

Bonnie watched as Damon surprisingly put together a pretty hot outfit it may have taken her a while to throw together herself. The shoes were drool worthy but a little too high for her taste, and she knew those jeans would mold to her curves like paint on a wall. The blazer would downplay the sexiness of the corset, but still she didn't want to give Stefan the wrong impression about her. But then again, he's only seen her in uniform so maybe she could step outside of her comfort zone and turn it up a notch.

Once Damon had the outfit assembled on the center island, he turned Bonnie to face the mirror and began pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

"You should wear your hair up because you have a beautiful neck and you shouldn't hide it," he suggested and then unconsciously licked his mauve lips. There was a tiny mole right behind her left ear that was practically begging him to nibble on it for a while.

"You're really into fashion," Bonnie observed. "Is there something you want to tell me? I know you have a ferocious appetite when it comes to girls but that could all be a cover."

Damon's expression was impassive. "Are you calling my sexuality into question simply because I know how to put together an outfit that won't have you looking retarded?"

Pink dots formed on her cheeks. When he said it like that, it seemed pretty shallow of her to jump to that conclusion. So sue her, she grew up in a world where guys wore what had the least amount of stains and didn't smell noticeably rancid, and whose idea of dressing up consisted of wearing khakis and a blue ill-fitted button down with brown loafers. They certainly didn't strut around in tailored Armani.

"Sorry…I didn't mean…sorry," Bonnie stammered. Her eyes met Damon's in the mirror. He still had possession of her hair. "My hair?"

Coming out of his stupor he released his hold on it and watched as it fell down like curtains covering her up again.

"Because I love women, I love how clothes make them look. And I know what I would want to see a girl I'm taking out for a first date wear. That's all I'm trying to do, let you see the world through my eyes."

"I understand that and I appreciate the help, but…I'm not sure if what you picked out is appropriate. What if he's taking me down to that marina place? They have red checkered table clothes and starfish on the walls," she said bemusedly.

Damon snorted—that was true. It was a local joint that catered mostly to the yuppies who lived on the island. They served excellent seafood, but the music and décor left much to be desired, and in his opinion it would be a horrible to place to take a first date. That's the kind of spot you hit up once you've been dating for awhile and you no longer have to impress each other. Or it was a place to go for brunch on Sundays.

Maybe Damon might suggest that place on the sly once Stefan arrived, he laughed inwardly.

"If he's taking you there, then you will definitely turn some heads and that's what it's all about. Being the attention getter, show stopper."

"That might work for you because you're used to people marveling at your looks, but for me," Bonnie shrugged in a self-deprecating manner. "I'm more of a wall flower."

Damon stared at her determinedly. "Not anymore you're not. I see I'm going to have to take you under my tutelage and break you out of that self-conscious shell you're in."

Bonnie propped a hand on her hip. "I'm not self-conscious."

"Then wear what I picked out without making any compromises or changes."

Bonne's eyes wondered over to the outfit and she started biting her lip again. It was a nervous habit Damon picked up on that she did to alleviate stress or when she was pensive about something. It was cute and endearing but a dead giveaway of her uncertainty to her enemies because trust and believe once she became a Salvatore she would have enemies.

He braced his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not a big fan of Stefan's in fact I can't stand him, but he…seems important you and you want him to stick around, right?"

Tentatively Bonnie nodded. She didn't want to confide in Damon how truly nervous and excited, yet also terrified she was to have a guy of Stefan's caliber show an interest in her. Bonnie was good at faking certain things but she had a tendency to reveal too much in her eyes and constantly wore her feelings on her sleeve. Coming from a world where everyone knew her and she could truly be herself, to enshrining herself into this contemporary world where people got to know someone from the outside in instead of the other way around was making her feel inadequate and lost in the dark ages.

Still that didn't mean she wanted to run to Damon anytime she needed a word of advice. He might be purposely trying to set her up to fail.

"If you're worried about the message that outfit is sending, if Stefan is a gentleman it shouldn't matter what you wear, he should treat you with respect."

Hearing that sounded a bit hypocritical coming from the womanizer himself, but still Bonnie couldn't refute it was the good, honest truth.

Bonnie nodded her head in compliance. "So when are you going to take your own advice about respecting women?" she turned and held up the corset again. She had no idea what her boobs might look like in it other than awesome, but again, she wasn't comfortable with the idea of showing so much skin.

"Well, you know what they say, Bon, sometimes we can be our own worst enemy."

"Why are you helping me?"

Damon shrugged. "Because I have nothing else better to do at the moment. Why not?" he replied flippantly. "I'm going to go downstairs and give Stefan a proper welcome when he gets here."

A worried look flashed on Bonnie's face. She spun around to face him. "Please, don't do something…that's so Damon."

He grinned and winked at her. "All I can be is me, doll." He quietly exited the room after that.

* * *

The front door to the Salvatore palace flew open and blew in an enraged and irritated Katherine Pierce-Salvatore. Shucking off her shoes, uncaring of where they landed, and dropping her purse right near the door she needed a couple of stiff drinks, a back massage, and maybe a stiff dick and she _might_ be all right. Put some extra emphasis on the word might.

After fruitlessly searching for three weeks, and thanks to Damon and his gift of gab and persuasion, Giuseppe had given her an additional five weeks to seek employment. And just as she entered her last and final week to find a job, she got a call back from one of the companies she placed an application with. She nailed the second interview, her references had checked out, and she signed her contact before walking out of the door.

Katherine was now working as a part-time receptionist, gopher, assistant, punching bag for a fledging designer slash model and talent agency in Calabasas. She worked three days consecutively and stayed in Los Angeles with her current boy toy who had been bugging her about moving in with him permanently. Katherine wouldn't say she wasn't giving it serious thought, as it would cut down on her being stuck in horrendous traffic for close to six hours a day, but the idea of co-habituating without a ring or lease agreement—scandalous. She couldn't allow that and Giuseppe would really attempt to tan her hide more than it already was if she approached him with that proposition.

All she wanted was a little peace and quiet and a good meal, but the noise from the wedding preparations was going to make that nearly impossible. Grimacing at the chaos and commotion, Katherine was ready to gut someone.

"Who pissed in your Cheerios?" Damon sauntered into the main foyer as he flicked his eyes to his watch. By his count, Stefan should be arriving in the next five minutes.

Growling at her impertinent brother, Katherine wasn't in the mood for their usual banter. "Eat me, Damon. My boss is already a prick and the last thing I need is attitude from you."

Holding up his hands in surrender format, he knew when to back off or risk having his balls shoved up his throat.

The doorbell chimed and Damon beamed. Showtime.

"Who the hell is that?" Katherine muttered irritably and was ready to dismiss the person yet changed her mind once their visitor entered the foyer. Katherine fluffed out her fallen waves, stuck out her boobs, and scowled a bit that she wasn't perfectly coiffed, but it didn't matter because she was stunning, nonetheless.

"Stefan…long time no see," Katherine leered.

The young man in question stared at the raven-haired beauty a bit wearily. "Hello, Katherine," Stefan replied politely.

"No need to be shy and formal around me," she gave him a very long and thorough once-over that would have made a lesser man spray his shorts prematurely.

Stefan couldn't have felt more like a bull at an auction. He had met Katherine a couple of times when she still attended Manchester Prep, and called himself having a crush on her, but once he heard and saw for himself the kind of girl she was, Stefan pretty much dropped that by the wayside.

"I'm guessing you're not here to play Dungeons and Dragons with Damon?" Katherine slithered just a little closer to him to get a better whiff of his cologne.

Stefan shuffled on his feet hoping to discreetly put more space between them.

As this was taking place, Damon cleared his throat. "Kat, darling," he crooned sarcastically and with a slight British accent.

The brunette cut her eyes at him and waited for what he had to say.

"Can you be a doll and tell Abby there's a," Damon combed his eyes over Stefan disapprovingly, "gentleman here who wants to take her daughter out?"

Katherine's eyes narrowed in response. Damon knew good and damn well that she broke all ties and communication with Abby and had officially put her on her shit and destroy list. But she knew there was no need to air that particularly dirty laundry in front of Stefan who was doing a marvelous job in trying not to throttle Damon.

"Why don't you do it?" she deflected. "I can tend to Stefan."

"No, I'll introduce Stefan to _my_ mother."

Three pairs of eyes lifted up towards the staircase as Bonnie, holding on to the rail so she wouldn't wobble in her shoes, descended the steps like a born socialite.

Damon would have to pick out her clothes more often judging by Stefan's enlarged eyes and slackened jaw that he hit it out of the park. Bonnie did indeed feel like a show stopper.

Yeah, he could pat himself on the back all he liked because Bonnie was a walking wet dream. The jeans were sick, only hints of the corseted top could be seen underneath the blazer, but as Bonnie moved, the top of her mounds jiggled but not enough that it became distracting or would earn her the title of slut. She had worn her hair up just as he suggested in a messy ponytail, and the only makeup Damon could see she applied was black liner around her eyes, and once again her lips were swathed in blood-red lipstick.

Envy might be the strongest emotion Damon was feeling at the moment as Bonnie smiled shyly at Stefan who came out of his trance, met her halfway across the foyer, and kissed her hand.

"You look _amazing_," he complimented as his eyes took a tour of her body. "I almost feel kind of under dressed," he grinned crookedly.

Bonnie wouldn't say so. Stefan, too had chosen to wear dark jeans, but he paired his with a Prussian blue button down with the sleeves rolled up showing off his tanned, muscular forearms. Black Durango boots finished his look.

"You look good," Bonnie grinned like a loon and told her face to calm the hell down.

She brought her eyes up to Stefan's face and almost felt as if she got sideswiped by a sledgehammer. His skin was so clear for a teenaged boy. Bonnie was soon distracted by his rosy lips, and that impressive indentation between his eyebrows that matched the ones underneath his nose. If Bonnie were an artist she'd say his face was completely linear. Stefan's gaze was intense and direct and appeared darker against the blue of his shirt, yet it made his hair which was caramel in color seemed more auburn than burnished gold.

Even with the heels on, Bonnie was still shorter than him by several inches. Yet she felt protected and safe with him.

Someone in the background cleared their throats since she and Stefan was too busy star gazing at one another.

Bonnie faced the origin of the noise and noticed that her mom was standing and waiting for an introduction.

Her face flushed, and Bonnie wasn't sure if it would be okay for her to grab Stefan's hand. They weren't dating, were still in the process of establishing a friendship, yet she couldn't deny the chemistry that flowed between them.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Stefan Salvatore. Stefan this is my mom, Abby Bennett."

The two shook hands and it didn't escape anyone, Abby's resistant expression, once she heard what Stefan's last name was.

Damon spoke up. "We're not related."

"Not even by a long shot," Stefan added. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Bennett."

"Nice to meet you, too. So I'm assuming you go to school with Bonnie and Damon?"

"I do. I'm a senior."

Abby's right eyebrow lifted upon hearing that news. Katherine was tired, hungry, and cranky, yet she didn't want to pass up the opportunity to witness this show. She was almost grinning sensing that Bonnie was just moments away from being mortally humiliated.

Abby turned to face the two troublemakers—her fiancés children. "Can you two give us a minute? Thanks," she spoke curtly.

Katherine was prepared to throw her weight around, but Damon snatched her by the arm and the two of them got lost.

With them gone, Abby pointed vaguely in the direction of the parlor. "Let's sit down for a second. Typically my daughter _asks _if she can go out on a date before agreeing to one especially when she knows I haven't met the boy yet."

Both teenagers looked at one another guiltily and nervously. It completely slipped Bonnie's mind to check with her mom first which was so not like her. Abby had been cool about giving Bonnie independence and freedom since she kept her grades up in school and stayed out of trouble. Nevertheless, Abby never really had to worry about her safety because everyone looked out for everyone in Mystic Falls. So there was but so much Bonnie could getaway with without it getting back to her mom.

She was on a different playing field now and she'd have to remember that.

The meet and greet with her mom ran the usual route. Abby grilled Stefan about his grades, who his parents were, if he thought he had an invincibility complex that needed to be checked at the door, and of course what his intentions were towards her sixteen year old daughter. Stefan answered matter-of-fact and respectably.

What seemed like a lifetime was only fifteen minutes. Abby stood from the Queen Anne chair and smiled at her daughter.

"Normally I don't like Bonnie going out during the weekday, but you seem to be on the up and up so I'll let it slide this time."

"Thank you, Miss Bennett. I realized I should have cleared it with you and Mr. Salvatore first before asking Bonnie. It's just…I really like her and I don't make it out to Catalina as often so I just figured why not seize the opportunity."

Abby didn't look overly impressed with his explanation. "Un-hun. Have her home by ten, and no sex, or groping."

"Ma," Bonnie whined feeling several levels of embarrassed.

"Will do," Stefan cleared his throat. "Bonnie?" he stretched out his arm to which she eagerly accepted, but then checked.

Bonnie pranced—well as much as her shoes would allow—over to her Abby and drew her into a bear hug and kissed her cheek. "Thanks ma."

"I want details when you get back," Abby whispered in her ear and then kissed her cheek. She kept her eyes on her daughter who was practically dancing in those ridiculously high heels. For a moment Abby remembered what if felt like to be young and crushing on someone. Here she was about to embark on holy matrimony so who was she to deny her daughter the opportunity to date and meet guys? Besides Bonnie was a good girl.

* * *

As far as first dates go, once Bonnie got past her nerves she was in her element. She and Stefan argued good-naturedly about what to listen to as he drove his drop top BMW to Ristorante Villa Portofino where they would be having dinner. Like most nights in California it was mild and Bonnie felt a little hot in her blazer but she refused to take it off. Several times she caught Stefan peeping at her cleavage. Usually that would have annoyed her but she didn't mind so much. There was the alternative of him _not _looking at her all. And there was the shameful side of her that got a little excited when he would take his eyes off the road to stare at her. It served to be a great confidence and ego boost.

The restaurant was nice and kind of reminded Bonnie of an upgraded version of Olive Garden. The tables were nicely spaced apart so the patrons sitting across from you wouldn't overpower your conversation with their own. Soft classical music serenaded the casual and semi-formal dressed customers who were enjoying a late-night meal with good company.

Once they arrived they were promptly shown to a table by the host and their server arrived not long after they were seated. Bonnie listened as their server went through his spiel about the specials, which none of what Bonnie heard drew her interest. She and Stefan placed their drink orders and then agreed to split a hot appetizer.

"How's the wedding planning coming along?" Stefan asked as he squeezed a lemon slice into his water.

Since they met and finally exchanged numbers after the first week of school, Bonnie and Stefan talked for two hours nearly every night.

"I can't wait for it to be over," she lamented. "All the running around and having people back out and cancel just to turn around and say 'yeah we'll be there' has definitely made me consider either eloping or getting married at the justice of the peace."

"Hmm, I thought all women wanted the huge Disney fairytale wedding or is that an archaic idea now?"

"I don't know. I can't speak for everyone. I mean, all of that seems nice but planning it out is another matter altogether. Dealing with high strung wedding planners, and flaky vendors…too much of a headache. Actually," Bonnie bit her lip. "I know we just met and we don't know each other all that well, but I can invite someone as my plus one," she stared at him hopefully.

Stefan's eyebrows lifted in contemplation. "When's the wedding?"

"It was pushed back to October 5th. "

Stefan winced. "I have an out of town meet that weekend."

"Oh," Bonnie tried to keep the disappointment off her face and was probably failing. "Right, I remember. You're a wrestler. What made you decide to do that and not run track or play football, basketball?"

After taking a sip of his water, Stefan answered, "You're still new so you'll find out soon enough that our football and especially our basketball teams suck," he laughed.

"So why not join and make it better?"

Stefan shook his head. "Not everyone is Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, or LeBron James and can carry a whole team on their shoulders. Besides the coaches are tools and think because they won trophies in their heyday that it makes them experts, yet haven't managed to even get a bid to play in regional's. I like wrestling because it's more than just a contact sport; it's also a thinking sport. You have to be able to quickly think of ways to get yourself out of jam and gain the upper hand on your opponent."

"So it's like chess for guys who like to roll around on a mat?"

Stefan cocked his head to the side, "Something like that but not really," he smiled.

Their _torta di granchio_ appetizer had arrived. Bonnie thanked the server who quickly jotted down their entrée orders, and was off again.

"Are you any good?" Bonnie stared at him from the across the table while Stefan cut into his crab cake.

He met her eyes and grinned. "I like to think so. I am captain," he dropped his fork. "Sorry, I forgot to say grace."

"You say grace?" Bonnie was surprised.

"Does that offend you?" Stefan asked cautiously.

Bonnie shook her head. "No, it's something my family does, especially on Sundays. We're not overly religious or anything, but my grandmother always reminds us to thank God for what we have."

"So does my grandmother or you're liable to get hit on the head with a wooden spoon. Plus, she's a devout Roman-Catholic."

They both shared a laugh. Stefan closed his eyes, Bonnie followed suit and he blessed their food in Italian.

"What did you say?" Bonnie picked up her fork and carefully sliced a portion of her crab cake.

"Nothing over the top. Just giving the Big Man Upstairs props for creating such a _very_ beautiful girl."

Bonnie blushed—annoyingly. "You can't be this nice."

Stefan leaned over the table. "I know when to take the gloves off and fight dirty. But with you I don't have to. Unless there's an ex-boyfriend I should be concerned about."

Lowering her eyes to the table, Bonnie shook her head. "No ex-boyfriends. Well…not a serious one anyways," she lifted her head again. "And don't think I didn't see the lechery on Katherine's face as she practically eye-raped you where you stood. Am I going to have to worry about her more than I already do?"

"No," Stefan told her firmly. "Katherine is one of those girls who feels the world should be at her feet simply because she's pretty and rich. I don't have time for chicks like that. You know, my family is originally from Texas. I was born in Los Angeles, but my folks, they're southerners, too."

"Are you trying to get on my good side?"

"Yep," Stefan answered shamelessly. "And they've instilled some really good strong morals in me. I'm no saint, contrary to what your brother or his lackeys may want you to believe, but when I see a good thing," he stared at her pointedly, "I go after it no half-stepping."

Bonnie's cheeks were going to rocket launch of her face if he didn't sop. Pushing her empty plate away and taking a generous sip of water, Bonnie wiped her hands clean. "How's your little brother…Conner, right?"

Stefan sat back in his chair, pleased that Bonnie remembered he had a little brother. "He's a little daredevil who is getting his tonsils removed in two weeks. He's been pouting because it's not as cool as getting a cast for a broken arm or leg. He likes feeling special."

Bonnie smiled. Being an only child she really couldn't relate in that area, but she had adopted her friends as substitute brothers and sisters to try to flesh out her family. It wasn't the same but it felt close enough to the real thing.

Conversations flowed with very little awkward pauses and lapses into silence. It was nearing nine by the time they were finished which gave them a half hour to do something before Stefan had to make the drive back to her place.

They decided to just take a stroll around the area, Bonnie naturally holding his arm.

"So why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Stefan walked with both hands stuffed in his pockets. "I had one but she…she died."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, so am I," he muttered softly and a bit angrily. "She was killed in a boating accident last summer. I didn't want her to go because of the people she was going with, but she wanted to do her own thing, and respecting her decision, I let her."

Bonnie kept her gaze on Stefan's face and noticed his jaw was tense and he was staring at his shoes while they walked.

"You don't have to talk about it," Bonnie said hoping to ease some of the tension.

"It's still raw and hits me at odd times, but death is a part of life, and yeah, no one should go before their time. But…" he beamed at Bonnie. "It's time I moved on."

Bonnie nodded. "Not to change the subject but we skipped dessert."

Stefan's eyes darkened. His voice was a little deeper when he spoke. "What do you suggest?"

_Me, _Bonnie thought impulsively. "Umm, there's a Starbucks not that far. I have a taste for a frappuccino."

"All right, let's go."

After stopping to get coffee, Stefan got her back to the house just ten minutes shy of ten o'clock. Abby might not be physically imposing, but Stefan didn't want to piss her off anymore than his impromptu date with Bonnie already had.

Sliding out of the car, and reaching for Stefan's outstretched hands, he walked her to the front door. The both of them shifted nervously on their feet as their eyes played Tag-Your-It.

"I had fun," Bonnie opened up the dialogue. "We should do this again."

"Definitely. Are you doing anything for the wedding next weekend?"

"I'll check my calendar and get back to you."

Stefan cupped her cheek and Bonnie's heart torpedoed in her chest. She wasn't sure if she was ready for a first kiss yet, and even after chewing two pieces of Winterfresh gum she could still taste faint traces of garlic on her breath. However, it had been a few months since the last time she had a kiss that made her toes curl in her shoes or made her feel as if her head might explode. Stefan appeared to have the ability and know-how in making a girl practically fiend for his mouth to be latched on to hers.

He wanted to kiss her, but he also wanted to take things slow. Stefan had been a separatist all his life. He didn't do things simply because everyone else did it. Call him old-fashioned but he wanted to wait a little while longer before tasting Bonnie's lips although that was going to be hard. _Real _hard. Besides, anticipation was everything.

Bringing her closer, he kissed her forehead. "I'll see you at school, Bonnie."

She was still trying to recover from feeling his lips on her body. It wasn't enough but it would tie her over until later. "Thank you for dinner, Stefan."

"Thank you for joining me." He didn't move from his spot until Bonnie walked into the house.

Bonnie turned, waved, and shut the door. She braced her back against it before plowing upstairs to strip out of her clothes. The second she was in her pajamas she went on the hunt for her mom, and knew she could be found in the entertainment room around this time of night. Heading there and sauntering inside, Bonnie came to a stop.

"Damon…have you seen my mom?"

He paused the game he was playing on his X Box 360. "She had to catch a redeye to Virginia. There was some emergency about her dress. It was shipped to France," Damon replied disinterestedly.

"What?!" Bonnie shrieked. "Why didn't she call me?"

"Maybe because you left your cell phone here," Damon picked up said instrument waving it back and forth.

Bonnie stomped over and snatched it from him and hit the power button. Sure enough she had thirteen missed calls from her mom and about a dozen text messages.

"Did she say when she would be back?" Bonnie tried calling her mom hoping to catch her before she boarded her flight.

Damon shrugged and resumed his game.

Bonnie's call was routed to voice mail and she left a message pleading Abby to call her back after apologizing profusely for leaving her phone behind. Bonnie turned to exit but Damon stopped her with a question.

"How was your date?"

"Fine."

"That means it sucked."

Bonnie glared at him. "I enjoyed myself immensely. Stefan was a perfect gentleman."

"That means he was boring," Damon rolled his eyes.

"You were the one who said he should be a gentleman," Bonnie argued.

Damon shrugged as if the advice he gave had a warranty or "used by" date on it before it expired. "I say a lot of things, Bonnie."

"You're unbelievable."

"Did he kiss you?"

"None of your business."

"That means no. The pussy."

Nostrils flaring, Bonnie reached for the game controller to rip it out of Damon's hands but his grip was much tighter and she ended up falling on top of him.

Of course Damon wasn't going to complain about their compromising position. Bonnie's cheeks were steaming as she attempted to scramble to get off him. However, Damon being faster and stronger, managed to switch their positions on the couch and had Bonnie pinned under him.

"Get off me!" Bonnie struggled to free herself.

"You know what your problem is…"

"You being on top of me and manhandling me," she scowled at him.

Damon grinned charmingly. "No, your problem is you take life much too seriously. Instead of going with the flow of my ribbing your natural response is to resort to violence. Now why is that?"

"Maybe because I have a short fuse when it comes to assholes."

Damon ignored her insult. "I bet Stefan went the traditional route and kissed you on the forehead."

Bonnie didn't say anything.

"I thought so," Damon paused and thought of something. "Are you ticklish, Bonnie?"

Her eyes widened a bit but then Bonnie shook her head.

"Really?" Damon wasn't buying it, and then curled his fingers into talons making his intent very clear.

"Damon, please, no!"

And he began his assault. Bonnie roared with laughter, tried to slap him, and throw him off of her, but he wouldn't budge as his fingers dug and danced across her ribs, lower back, and right behind her knees.

"Okay stop! I give up!" Bonnie pleaded. "Now get off me."

"You promise to be nice to me?"

"No!" she attempted to give him a stern look but ended up smiling.

Damon went back to tickling her.

Giuseppe stormed into the room and saw his son on top of Bonnie. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Both teenagers froze and directed their attention to the open doorway. Damon climbed off Bonnie who wasted no time scrambling away.

She was ready to explain the semi-harmless scene Giuseppe walked in on when a loud clap of thunder sounded and the house was plunged into darkness.

Bonnie screamed, father and son cursed. The backup generators kicked on and so did the floodlights.

"What's going on?" Bonnie's heart was racing as her eyes tried to adjust to the semi-darkness of the house.

"You're about to experience your very first California lightning storm. This should be fun," Damon mumbled.

To Bonnie it sounded anything but fun.

Chapter end.

**A/N: This chapter I wanted to give some background on Stefan, and tone down Damon's whorish ways, at least for this chapter. For those wondering, Grams will be making an appearance soon, I promise, and though I'm not totally sure how it will go, I'm sure Grams and Katherine will clash like oil and vinegar. Hopefully the next update won't take a month to happen, but if it does, I promise to make it worth your while. As always thank you guys for reading and leaving me your thoughts. Love you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Little by little I'm trying to update my stories. Finding the motivation to write is hard to come by these days when so much is going on. This is a long one. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters (except for my OC's) are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Lighting snaked across the sky like blue-white flares. Thunder boomed and rattled the windows and the furniture, and made the ground beneath her feet vibrate. Bonnie had a death grip on Damon's arm as he escorted her through the labyrinth of the Salvatore compound to her room.

It wasn't until now, walking in near pitch-darkness, that Bonnie realized how vast the house was. She knew it was huge because she had walked through it plenty of times during daylight, but at night the halls seemed to loom on until infinity, and the ceilings looked so high they might as well be pointing to heaven. The paintings on the walls—the portraits in particular—looked like ghastly apparitions or zombies in the shadows. Bonnie was scaring herself and knew she needed to put a stop to it or she might just fall apart right there and in front of Damon to boot, who was probably laughing at her in his head.

_So this is what it takes to get her to touch me, _Damon wondered and winced when Bonnie's fingernails bit into his arm for the umpteenth time.

"Why is it taking so long to get to my room?" Bonnie asked impatiently. The entertainment room where they were horse-playing around was probably less than sixty feet from her bedroom, but it seemed it was taking them fifteen minutes to reach her safe haven.

Damon didn't answer right away. He speculated it would take a minute for Bonnie to realize that he was basically dragging his feet across the marble floor.

"Safety first," he said. "There are a lot of sharp objects around, and we haven't exactly baby proofed the house."

Bonnie pursed her lips. "Can you go two seconds without patronizing someone?"

Damon chuckled. "It's called jesting or do people not laugh in Virginia?"

Bonnie chose to ignore him. If he was trying to take her mind off the fact her skin was barely clinging on to her bones because she was so scared of lightning actually crashing through the ceiling, then it was working. Suddenly a thought came to her and she stopped, eyes wide.

"Oh my God, Stefan! Do you think he made it back to LA before the storm hit?"

Damon wanted to growl, but suppressed it. "He probably didn't. "

It wasn't difficult to hear the unsympathetic tone to Damon's voice.

"I hope he's somewhere safe."

Damon kept his mouth shut. It went without saying that wishing death on Stefan wouldn't go over well with Bonnie. Picking up his feet, he continued on to Bonnie's room who relinquished her death grip on his arm, to push open the door to her domain.

The wood panels that barred the glass sliding doors, had been left open giving Bonnie an unbridled view of the ocean behind the house. Lightning flashed and thunder followed shortly thereafter causing Bonnie to shriek and jump out of her skin.

"Close those doors!"

Damon, completely unfazed by the weather stood petulantly in the middle of her bedroom with his hands braced on his lean hips. He stared at Bonnie wishing the chick would get a grip. It was nothing but a little rain and wind to him, completely inconsequential unless of course you were stuck outside in the elements.

"You're safe, Bonnie. My father had this house outfitted to weather any storm. Nothing is going to come inside and get you."

Bonnie flashed annoyed eyes at Damon and noticed he looked as cool as a cucumber. Perhaps she should take a page from his book and relax a little, but it was seemingly impossible for her because she felt so exposed especially with all the glass windows in her room. Yet she kept her eyes on Damon and when another burst of brilliant white light lit up outside, it did something interesting to his eyes. It made them opaque, turning his azure orbs into crystallized steel. His pupils had shrunk in diameter and were no bigger than the size of a period, and it made his pale skin nearly glow for a second.

Shaking her head Bonnie wondered if the frappuccino she had earlier was getting to her. She stifled a yawn as she crossed over to her bed, wearily, wanting to keep her eyes on the storm raging outside while at the same time not wanting to look.

"I can stay if you want me, too," Damon offered and took notice that Bonnie's hands shook a little as she pulled back the duvet.

Bonnie stood ramrod straight. She wouldn't mind the company but she certainly didn't want to give Damon any ideas that he could worm his way inside her room anytime a thunderstorm hit. Bonnie really wasn't scared of the storm per se, but she and rain didn't exactly mix. Call it reliving a childhood trauma that happened when she was ten years old that she never really recovered from.

"I guess that'll be fine," Bonnie admitted grudgingly and then quickly scampered into bed, pulling her knees to her chest.

Damon sat down on the opposite side of her great bed, his eyes diverting to the glass doors. Embarrassingly his stomach chose that precise moment to growl. Bonnie giggled a bit.

"Hungry?" she teased.

"I had an early dinner. I was about to raid the refrigerator before you came barreling into the entertainment room, interrupting my game with your nonsense."

A pair of pretty viridian eyes went heavenward. "Are you going to blame me for all of your issues? Technically I'm the youngest so it's my job to blame the oldest when something gets broken or goes wrong."

"Is that how this whole sibling thing works?" Damon snorted sarcastically and then stretched out on her bed, resting on his elbow, and crossing his legs at his ankles.

"I wouldn't know," Bonnie fiddled with her fingers. "Between the two of us, you're the one with the experience in that department."

Damon swiveled his head to stare at Bonnie. In the semi-darkness of the room she certainly did look her age, not that it detracted from her stunning beauty. But it served as a painful reminder that they weren't in the same league—experience wise. Bonnie was smart, intuitive, yet still naïve and wet behind the ears on things Damon had more than enough knowledge about. He ran his fingertips over the cool duvet cover wishing for a second he could touch her thigh or some place a little more intimate.

"Then I should tell you that you haven't missed much."

"Oh, really?" Bonnie questioned, unconvinced. Growing up, other than her friends, the only other companions she had were her doll and teddy bear collection. But it was difficult sharing secrets with objects that didn't talk back and couldn't offer up a lick of advice.

Damon nodded his head to her query. "I think it goes without saying that you know Katherine is a handful. A witch-bitch in heels and a Prada bag," his stomach growled again, actually speaking an entire sentence of protest at its empty contents.

Sighing, Bonnie reached over to her night table and rummaged around in the top drawer for her emergency food stash. She tossed a Hershey's chocolate bar with almonds on the bed.

A corner of Damon's lips quirked in gratitude as he picked up the treat and ripped open the packet. He broke off a piece and handed it to Bonnie, who accepted it.

"There's water in my mini-fridge," Bonnie said. Since her room was so far away from the kitchen, one had been installed in the event she got the late-night munchies. All she really kept in it was water and juice, and maybe leftovers from take-out restaurants.

Damon climbed off the bed and made his way to her fridge where he took out one bottle of water.

Lightning flashed again. Bonnie tensed and looked away.

Twisting off the cap, Damon took a hearty swallow after he finished the candy bar, and then placed the bottle on the night table. He then held out his hand towards Bonnie who stared at the proffered limb uncomprehendingly.

"What?" she said.

"We're going to try a little experiment," Damon told her and then motioned with his fingers for her to cough up her hand.

Bonnie did so and was swiftly pulled to her feet and before she knew what was happening, she was being pulled closer to the sliding glass doors. She dug her feet into the plush carpet.

"I don't want to get too close," Bonnie protested and tried to wiggle free of Damon's grasp, but he wasn't budging and he wasn't letting her go.

Once they stood in front of the glass door, Damon pushed Bonnie as close to it as possible that she was basically humping the thing.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie asked tremulously.

"It's called immersion therapy. You need to face whatever fear you have of lightning head on."

"I'm not scared," Bonnie lied through her teeth and tried to look everywhere except for outside.

Damon pursed his lips. "And I'm Oprah's love child."

"You probably are," Bonnie mumbled.

Damon slid behind Bonnie so she couldn't escape. He kept enough room between their bodies so she wouldn't freak out more than she presently was. He noticed that she did stiffen, but otherwise, lowered her eyes to her feet with her forehead touching the cool glass. With the position of their bodies: Bonnie pressed up against the glass, Damon towering over her, all he had to do was lift her right leg, bend his knees a little, and…

Stopping his thoughts because they were having an effect on his body, Damon focused his attention back outside.

The howling sound of the wind was practically deafening. He couldn't see because it was so dark outside. Other than the periodic stab of lightning that sparked over the ocean, there was little to see, but that didn't impede Damon from imaging the waves colliding with the beach and the rocky cliffs, and the foam that would create which would inevitably eat away at the shoreline. If he stepped outside in the torrential downpour he was certain he'd smell nothing but the earth and its heady perfume. Damon had smelled the air of countless countries, and though California had a high pollution rate, it was nearly undetectable when one lived just steps away from the Pacific.

"What are you thinking about?" Bonnie interrupted his musings.

Damon tilted his head a little to stare at Bonnie's profile. "Are you sure you want to know the thoughts tumbling through my head right now?"

Craning her neck to look up at him, Bonnie studied his face for a moment. "On second thought maybe you should keep them to yourself."

His soft chuckle tickled her hears. It wasn't the first time she had heard Damon laugh, but it was the first time he did so without a hint of sarcasm.

"I'm not all bad," Damon tried to reassure her.

"I'm sure the devil said the same thing to Eve."

"You didn't let me finish," Damon chastised. "I'm not all bad, but I'm not all good, either. You know what. I have an idea."

He didn't get to share it because lightning touched from the heavens to the earth again, catching him completely off guard. This bolt seemed to have hit just a few short yards away from the edge of the property. And the thunder that followed shortly thereafter put both teenagers' teeth on edge.

Bonnie screamed and jerked causing the crown of her head to collide with the bottom of Damon's chin which made him bite into his lip.

"Gotdamnit," he swore and stumbled away from Bonnie who turned around to examine the damage she might have done.

"I'm sorry," she said frantically and waited to see if Damon was bleeding. It was hard to tell since he was rubbing the pain away from his chin. "That's what you get for standing so close to me."

Damon glared at her. "Do you have a heart in that chest of yours, you cyborg?"

Bonnie had to laugh at that. "And it beats just fine thank you very much. Are we done with this whole immersion therapy thing? I'd really like to get to bed."

A cunning smile traipsed across Damon's face which served to make Bonnie blush.

"Alone," she tacked on hastily. "I'd like to get to my bed alone. Good luck finding your way across this museum in the dark."

"You're kicking me out after you physically assaulted me?" both of his eyebrows arched.

"I didn't physically assault you, Damon. "

He pointed at his jaw, "I have proof that says otherwise."

"You'll be fine you crybaby."

Once again, Bonnie found herself screaming and running into Damon who seemed to always be in the way when thunder sounded with the absence of lightning. The two of them landed awkwardly on the floor in tangled limbs. Bonnie attempted to push herself away, but she couldn't unlatch herself from Damon who seemed to be purposely holding her around the waist.

"Let go," she groaned and managed to twist away before crab crawling backwards until she bumped into her bed.

"See what I mean," Damon said incredulously. "All you do is abuse me."

"Shut up," Bonnie pulled down her T-shirt that had ridden up past her navel. Breathing heavily, she focused her eyes back outside and noticed the storm seemed to be subsiding a little. Folding her legs lotus style, Bonnie kept her gaze locked outside.

Damon positioned himself next to Bonnie and together they watched the storm in silence, until finally the heavy rain turned into drizzle. Lightning still snaked across the sky, but Bonnie was beginning to relax and not jump whenever it flashed.

"You know," Damon said, "we don't know all that much about each other, and I think it's important considering that in one week we'll officially be family."

That much was true, Bonnie could concede. However she had a firm rule set in place. She didn't want to know too much about Damon and she certainly didn't want him to know that much about her either, but still, they should know some_thing's _about each other if they were going to be related through and by marriage for X amount of years.

"What do you want to know?" Bonnie looked across to him.

"Are you a virgin?"

Bonnie sighed heavily and shook her head. "Leave it to you to want to know all the nasty stuff."

"Nasty stuff," he mocked with a chuckle. "What are we five years old? Can you say the words sex or fucking without blushing?"

"Damon," Bonnie whined.

"Can you?" he pressed.

"I don't like to curse."

"I can recall you calling me a no good bastard not too long ago," Damon reminded her.

"I did not!"

Damon nodded his head. "Yeah you did. I made a comment about something you were wearing one night, and I head you mumble 'you no good bastard'. Of course you didn't say it all that loud because your mother was in the kitchen with us at the time. It's okay. I love cursing. I can curse all day. I curse in my sleep. Fuck, shit, gotdamn, asshole, bitch. See how easy it rolls off my tongue."

Bonnie pinched the bridge of her nose and smiled. "Does your mother like you?"

"I think she does," Damon shrugged. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"And I'm not because that's none of your business."

"All right," Damon would let it go for now. "Have you ever seen…"

"Wait," Bonnie held up a hand. "It's my turn to ask a question. Is it true…"

"Yes," Damon answered definitely.

Bonnie smacked her lips. "I didn't ask my question yet."

Damon tried to keep from laughing. He cleared his throat. "Go ahead."

"Is it true that you and Katherine aren't blood related siblings?"

"Yes. Her mother died a year after she was born, but my dad adopted her. We share no blood relation."

"So what's the deal between the two of you? You act like…I don't know, like you're exes or something."

Damon flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his basketball shorts. "Katherine and I share a bond, I can admit that, and is it orthodox—no its not. But we haven't fucked if that's what you really want to know."

Bonnie felt her cheeks heating up. She couldn't quite make eye contact with him.

"By my count you've asked me two questions in a row, which means I get to ask _you _two questions in a row," Damon felt it necessary to point that out.

"Oh, boy."

"How far have you gone with a guy?"

"Why must all your questions be related to sex?" Bonnie shifted against the carpet. "Don't you want to know who my favorite actor or actress is, my favorite subject in school, my favorite band?"

"No because that information is boring. And besides, I can go to your Facebook page for all of that. Nice profile pic by the way," he winked.

"Thanks," Bonnie responded drolly.

Damon playfully bumped Bonnie's shoulder with his. "So what bases have you crossed?"

She nibbled a corner of her lip before answering. "I've seen and…touched a…a uh…you know… before."

"You know what?" Damon played ignorance.

"_Please_," Bonnie moaned and looked up at the ceiling wanting to die of mortification right this second. "Don't make me say it."

"You'll feel liberated once you do. I promise."

Bonnie doubted that very seriously. Huffing, she glanced at him from beneath her lashes but then raised her head proudly. "I've seen and touched a dick. There are you happy, you pervert."

Damon smiled. "What else did you do with it?"

"Nothing!"

"What else did you want to do with it?" his grin became shit-eating.

Bonnie snapped her jaws shut. But then she had a question of her own. "How many girls have you been with? Since we're on this subject."

"Lost count," Damon admitted shamelessly.

Bonnie's jaw went a little slack. "You're kidding, right?"

Damon shook his head. "I lost my virginity at thirteen and pretty much spread my seed around since then. Be fruitful and multiply, that's what the good book says."

"Damon," Bonnie was scandalized. "That was barely five years ago."

"Your point?" his tone defensive.

"My point is…" Bonnie stopped. What exactly was her point? She knew most, not all, but most teenaged boys bed hopped and tried to get as many girls as they could. So it didn't come as a total surprise, but still it was a shock to her system that in this day and time with so many silent killers and diseases floating around that a person wouldn't take the utmost care with their sexuality. "Haven't you wanted to find one girl and just be with her?"

Damon reached for Bonnie's hand and laced their fingers together. His hand nearly swallowed hers.

"I'm young. I don't need or want a girlfriend."

"Why not?" Bonnie tried to pull her hand away.

"I wouldn't make a very good boyfriend. That's why. I'm sure you think I'm acting irresponsibly, but I always make sure my dog doesn't leave the house without a raincoat on."

"That's all well and good…"

"So," Damon cut her off and dragged his languorous gaze to Bonnie. "Are you saving it until marriage, if you are in fact a virgin, or are you just waiting for the right guy to come along, wine and dine you before allowing him to breech your gate?"

Bonnie snatched her hand away and put more space between herself and Damon. "I need to use the bathroom."

Rising to her feet, Bonnie stepped over Damon and made her way to the lavatory, but then stopped. She turned back to face him.

"And…I'm not as innocent as you think I am," Bonnie replied cryptically before shutting the door behind her.

Well, that certainly gave Damon something to think about.

When Bonnie stepped out of the bathroom she wasn't terribly surprised to find that Damon had once again made himself more than comfortable on her bed. He patted the space beside him.

Pulling back the covers, Bonnie was thankful Damon wasn't underneath the sheet, just the duvet.

"Can I get a kiss goodnight?" Damon puckered his lips.

Bonnie scoffed and lied down facing away from him. "There's a mirror in the bathroom. Go kiss yourself."

Silence ensured.

"Did I make you uncomfortable with my questions?" Damon asked.

"No…not really. I guess I'm getting used to the fact that you have a one track mind. After a while your words won't have any kind of impact on me."

"Ouch, I should feel strangely offended by that."

"Probably," Bonnie agreed.

Damon couldn't see her face but he knew she was smiling. "I'm glad to have you in my life, Bonnie and that's no bullshit."

"Yeah," Bonnie said after a lengthy pause. "Maybe one day I can say the same to you without laughing."

* * *

**One week later…**

To commemorate his upcoming nuptials, Giuseppe Salvatore went balls out by hosting a multitude of soirees, parties, and fundraising events. And Katherine had to smile through all of it even though the last thing she wanted to do was participate in this farce. Her plan to have Abby's wedding dress mysteriously shipped across the Atlantic had been foiled, which of course Katherine feigned ignorance of any wrongdoing. Of course no one believed her, but she could really care less.

As such, Katherine tried to keep a low profile, smiling and charming her way from one uncomfortable situation to another. And she was almost out of the woods—almost. But she was beginning to feel stir crazy and she needed an outlet or her bad attitude would only worsen.

Draining a glass of muscato, Katherine licked her teeth and eyed a couple of the servers, future Hollywood heartthrobs in training once they found the right agent who could catapult them into stardom. Many of them were doing a piss poor job in disguising the fact they were molesting her with their eyes, which naturally Katherine ate it up like catnip. It was her plan to mount one or two or them all before the night was officially over and done with.

The seat of her bathing suit was moist and she had yet to take a dip in the water. Constantly Katherine scratched or flicked the tip of her nose, a telltale sign that she needed something stronger than wine to take the edge off. This was her last hurrah—Damon's pool party—for tomorrow she would be walking down the aisle in a tasteful Elie Saab bridesmaid gown. Katherine grumbled. There was at least _one _thing she couldn't fault Abby in—her taste in designer clothing.

Thinking of the woman who would becomes the third Misses Giuseppe Salvatore, Katherine traversed the writhing bodies trying to locate the offspring of her ire. She spotted the little girl amongst a circle of twats who Katherine never would have lowered herself to ever extend them an invite to her house—not even to clean it. If Bonnie were to be a true Salvatore she'd have to learn the art of choosing friends, not because of shared interests, but because you either wanted to fuck them or use them for professional gain.

It was a tuition Katherine had constructed and perfected like a class syllabus.

Unfortunately her thoughts didn't want to remain on this course and took a nose dive to last week.

Bonnie and Damon, dressed for school came waltzing down the grand staircase, laughing and actually smiling at one another. Katherine had narrowed her eyes wondering why the two of them looked chummy all of a sudden, but before her interrogation could begin, the front door opened and in walked her arch nemesis followed by another person with a face that was etched with disapproval.

Bonnie had stopped on the last step when she saw her mother, but then her expression changed when her grandmother entered the premises.

"Grams!" Bonnie flew over the marble floor to engulf her grandmother in her arms.

"Careful, child," Grams admonished and hugged her granddaughter back before pushing her away, holding her at arm's length to get a good look at her, at her boobs specifically. "Well, I'm glad you haven't run off to the first plastic surgeon you could find to enhance what the good Lord blessed you with. Still got the same nose, too," Shelia quipped.

Bonnie laughed and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I'm so happy to see you, Grams."

Shelia Bennett kissed her granddaughter soundly on the cheek before bringing her sage chocolate eyes to the two teenagers standing on the fringes of their reunion.

"You must be Katherine and Damon," Shelia spoke in a calm voice with a slight southern twange.

Damon crossed over to Shelia, reached for her hand and kissed it trying to devastate her with his eyes. He soon realized his charm wasn't having any kind of effect on the elder Bennett.

"Pleasure to meet you," Damon said. "Welcome to Catalina Island."

"You sound like a tour guide," Shelia waved him off and then took a few steps inside the foyer, her eyes going to the crystal chandelier. "But it's nice to meet you, Damon. You do look like your father."

Abby and Bonnie chuckled a bit at Damon's expense who appeared, on the surface at least, to take it all in stride.

Giuseppe had joined the group not long after. He stretched out his arms and engulfed his soon-to-be mother-in-law. "It's good to see you again, Miss Bennett."

"How many times have I told you to call me Shelia, Giuseppe? You're going to be my son next week, and you make me sound like I'm ninety years old."

"You look it," Katherine had mumbled under her breath, but she forgot about the wonderful acoustics so that meant everyone heard what she said. Several heads snapped in her direction. Katherine hadn't fidgeted and she certainly didn't look contrite. She stood her ground.

Shelia stepped around Giuseppe who had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Apologize…now," Giuseppe demanded on a low growl.

"No, that's all right," Shelia said.

Katherine held Shelia's penetrating gaze with one of her own, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched.

"Mom, can I _please _kick her ass?" Bonnie whispered to Abby who responded to her question by pinching Bonnie on her butt, but gave her daughter her indulgent Mona Lisa smile.

The tension in the air was thick and everyone aside from the two combatants facing off held his or her breath.

"You're a beautiful girl, Katherine, and I'm sure people tell you that all the time, but remember black doesn't crack, and it's not my looks you should be worried about."

Abby and Bonnie covered up their laughter with closed fists.

Giuseppe clapped his hands together. "Well that went well."

Katherine glowered at Shelia and didn't drop her heated gaze when Damon slithered up to her. "Looks like you've met your match."

"Eat me, Damon."

Instead of doing what she suggested, the young Salvatore kissed her cheek and then turned to face the others. "As much as I would love to watch this Mexican standoff, Bonnie and I need to get on the road."

The group dispersed and Shelia was promptly shown the grounds and made to feel welcome.

Katherine, tossing that memory aside like a wrecked ship, climbed off her chaise wanting to go flirt with a few of her brother's friends, maybe even Damon himself. He had been neglecting her for weeks, and it was high time she reminded him that he had pledged his loyalty to her.

Standing in a circle among the few friends Bonnie had managed to make in the short time since attending Manchester Prep, she laughed at a joke Lexi just finished telling. Periodically Bonnie checked her phone. She had invited Stefan to come to Damon's pool party, but he wasn't sure if he could make it considering he was traveling tonight to San Diego for a wrestling match.

"Staring at your phone every five seconds isn't going to make it ring," Vanessa Richardson admonished as she bobbed her head to the music blasting from the speakers. Vanessa looked like a runway model in her white bikini that contrasted beautifully against her deep ebony skin.

Bonnie quirked her lips and stared at Vanessa. The two of them were lab partners in their AP Chemistry class and had come to forge a tentative friendship over the last few weeks. Vanessa was easy to talk to, and she was one of the rare people on campus who was not consumed with keeping up with the Joneses. Vanessa had a straightforward approach to life that Bonnie liked, and she was determined to surround herself with people who reminded her of her friends from Mystic Falls.

"I know that," Bonnie finally said.

Sarah Peterson a petite brunette bumped her shoulder with Bonnie's. Sarah had big brown eyes, long mahogany hair and shared the same caramelized skin tone as Bonnie. And she knew all about Bonnie's "relationship" with Stefan Salvatore. The two of them were becoming the "It" couple at least within the walls of Manchester Prep despite the fact their relationship status wasn't confirmed.

Meredith tried to ignore Bonnie and Sarah's conversation. She would never admit that her middle school crush on Stefan still lingered, plus that would only add more ammunition to Lexi's gun.

Lexi finished the last of her beer in her cup and belched. "Are you two talking about Stefan again? Gag me."

"Hater," Sarah said in a sing song voice.

"I'm not hating," Lexi denied. "But we have far more important things to discuss like the fact Kendra Wilkes looks like she wants to get gang banged. Could she be anymore obvious?"

All girls present focused their hawk-like attention on the girl in question. Kendra Wilkes a fellow junior was doing what appeared to be a drunken striptease. She was performing for three guys that clearly didn't attend their prestigious private school.

"So why don't you go over there, feminist activist extraordinaire and put a stop to her," Sarah prodded.

Lexi shrugged. "I could, but then we won't have anything to talk about come Monday morning."

"You are so wrong for that, Lexi," Vanessa shook her head.

"Whatever," Lexi dismissed. "You were thinking it you just didn't want to say it."

Just then the girls spotted Tyler Lockwood and Jackson Whittemore making their way over to them. Several of the girls shifted on their feet, and self-consciously ran their fingers through their hair. The only ones to remain impassive were Bonnie and Lexi.

"Ladies," Tyler greeted. Even though he was wearing ultra-dark Armani shades the girls could feel him incinerating them with the heat emanating from his eyes.

Jackson slipped his shades off revealing those heart melting baby blues of his. His blond hair stood up in stylish spikes and glistened with water. He had just gotten out of the pool which meant his board shorts were sticking to him in the all the right places. Several hearts began to pound in tandem.

"You girls don't look like you're having a good time. This is supposed to be a celebration, but you look like you're plotting someone's death," Jackson took a sip from the red plastic cup in his hand, yet watched the girls over the rim.

"Yeah. Yours." Lexi said and was the first to break rank and got missing. "Excuse me," she said.

Ever dutiful Meredith tossed a placatory smile at the two guys before following in Lexi's wake.

Tyler and Jackson shared a look. They were speculating if Meredith wanted to bump uglies with Lexi since she followed the girl everywhere, and acted like her shadow and watchdog.

Vanessa, Bonnie, and Sarah kind of switched their weight on their feet, unsure of what to say to get them to go away.

Jackson picked who he assumed to be the weakest out of the bunch—Sarah. He smiled at her and laughed on the inside as the apples of her cheeks exploded with color before she dropped her eyes to examine her polished toes in her gladiator sandals.

"Was there anything you wanted in particular, gentlemen?" Bonnie said.

"Not really," Tyler hunched a brawny shoulder. He was attired in a hunter green sleeveless tank and black board shirts. His arms were nothing but stacked and toned muscle that had been browned by the sun. "We can't come over to be cordial? Besides I wanted to personally offer you my congratulations on your parents wedding."

"Well, that's nice of you, Tyler. You're coming, right?"

"Yep, gotta be there to support my uncle. And then there's the whole matter of the wedding taking place at my house."

Bonnie face palmed herself for her oversight. "That's right. I forgot you and Damon are cousins."

"Yeah," Jackson said and then placed himself between Bonnie and Sarah and threw his damp arm over Bonnie's shoulder. "But I'm not related to anyone here which means I'm free real estate. Do you have a date to what's been dubbed the wedding of the year?"

Bonnie stared up at Jackson wanting to frown, but she suppressed the urge. "No, I don't. I'm in the wedding party so I'm not sure I'd make a good date for anyone."

"There's always the reception. Do you promise to save me at least one dance?" Jackson graced her with a look that reminded her too much of a certain black-haired, blue-eyed guy.

"I'm allergic to dancing," Bonnie said in jest.

Vanessa, Sarah, and Tyler all snorted and tried to avert their eyes.

Jackson, unperturbed, tossed Bonnie a disarming smile. Jackson was handsome—fuck that he was sexy, but Bonnie needed no more complications in her life right now. Besides, she was trying to build something with Stefan.

Across the lawn, Damon was trying to coax Michelle Albright into making a quick trip into the cabana with him when he was tapped on the shoulder.

"This had better be important," Damon growled when he came face to face with one his friends. "What?"

"It seems Jackson is trying to put the moves on your lil sister. Just thought you'd like to know."

Damon's eyes narrowed. He easily picked Jackson's stupid face out of the crowd of milling and gyrating bodies. Sure enough he had his arm thrown over Bonnie's shoulder, holding court with her and her budding entourage. Bonnie thankfully was holding her cup with both hands, and wasn't touching Jackson. She did, however, look slightly uncomfortable with Jackson's obvious possessive embrace. Damon had every intention of going over there to break that up, but Katherine slithered into his path.

"Dance with me, Damon. I'm bored and this party blows. It's too tame. I say we kick this up a notch," Katherine locked her hands around his neck, and pressed her breasts against his chest.

"Not right now, Kat," Damon pried Katherine's noose-like grip off him. "There's something I need to take care of."

Katherine, frowning, looked over her shoulder at Damon's preoccupation. "Fuck that bitch," she spat nastily and caught him by the wrist, yanking him back with surprising strength.

Before Damon could regain the upper hand he felt Katherine press her alcohol stained lips against his just a second before she tried to pry his mouth open with her tongue.

The volume of the crowd dropped. Damon looked around with one eye as several people gawked at his sister seemingly trying to kiss his lips off.

Damon pulled Katherine off him, pushed her away, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stepped to her and whispered harshly in her ear.

"Go upstairs and sleep this shit off, you drunk bitch."

In a fit of hurt pride and drunken rage, Katherine slapped Damon into the middle of next week. He saw stars and stumbled a little over the grass. And naturally, before she made her grand exit, Katherine plunked poor little Michelle Albright off the chaise she had been lounging on.

Michelle tried to put up a fight but it was a losing battle because Katherine was freakishly strong.

"Let me go!"

Katherine shurgged, "Allright," and pushed the girl into the pool who screamed and flailed around in the water.

"I can't swim!"

"Quick, someone call David Hasselhoff!" one of the spectators shouted which instantly broke the tension as a chorus of laughter flooded the air.

Someone had the nerve to start singing the theme song to Baywatch.

"Get her out of the pool!" Damon roared, too pissed off to think straight right now. He looked around at everyone who stared at him wearily. "Mind your fucking business and go back to drinking my good liquor. If you don't want to do that then carry your sorry ass out of here!"

Bonnie, mouth open couldn't believe what just happened.

"Welp," Tyler said, "I guess I better go and check on my cousin. Jackson, you coming?"

"Hell no. I love my ass just the way it is so I'm going to spare it from being chewed out by Damon. You go while I stay here and attend to Bonnie."

"That won't be necessary."

Bonnie bolted out from under Jackson's arm at the sound of Stefan's voice. She practically tackled him she was so happy and relieved he was here. Stefan caught her in his arms and lifted her until her feet cleared the ground.

"Let's go for a walk," Bonnie insisted and dragged Stefan by the hand before he could speak to anyone else.

Looping her arm through Sarah's, Vanessa strolled by Jackson who looked less than pleased by the turn of events. "Ah-ha," she mocked.

* * *

Holding Stefan's hand and arm Bonnie led him to a small grotto Giuseppe had built as a birthday present for his second wife, Margie. It seemed miles away from the noise and commotion of the party, which was just fine with Bonnie. She needed a moment of solitude to process what she just witnessed with her two eyes.

"You okay?" Stefan questioned.

Mutely, Bonnie nodded her head.

"Hey," Stefan pulled Bonnie to a stop and then sat down, taking Bonnie with him. "You can talk to me."

"I don't want to seem like I'm complaining. My mom is getting married tomorrow and my future stepbrother and sister…"

"Just made out in public although I would say in Damon's defense he was accosted."

"You've known them longer than I have…are they _always _like this?"

Stefan shrugged. "I wouldn't know. None of us have traveled in the same circles, but I've heard the rumors. I wasn't sure how much truth was in them, but judging from what I just saw, I'll say it wasn't much of a stretch." Pause. "You're nothing like them."

Bonnie stared up into his grayish-blue eyes, brows knitted together in consternation. "I know that, but you know what they say, people adapt to their environment."

"Then surround yourself around the right environment."

Bonnie cupped Stefan's cheek. "I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad I came, too."

"When do you have to leave for San Diego?"

"The bus is pulling out at nine."

Bonnie nodded. "That doesn't give us much time before you have to leave and catch the ferry back to LA."

Taking Bonnie's left hand, Stefan began to play with her fingers. He appeared reticent for a moment, which Bonnie wasn't exactly used to. She could tell Stefan had something on his mind and part of her dreaded what he wanted to say to her yet she was excited at the same time.

"Stefan?" Bonnie said.

He jerked his head up and looked into her eyes. A lopsided grin formed on his face. "Sorry, spaced out for a second. I know you're ready for this whole wedding business to be over with."

Bonnie deflated a little. She was hoping Stefan would ask her _the _question, but that wasn't to be. "I am," she replied. "Giuseppe is taking my mom to Maldives for their honeymoon. She doesn't know. I already packed her bag with nothing but bathing suits and lingerie."

Stefan pulled a face. "And that didn't freak you out?"

"No," Bonnie laughed. "Me and my mom…we're real close. I tell her everything."

"Everything?" Stefan's voice dripped skepticism.

"Well," Bonnie amended," maybe not everything, but she knows enough. Probably more than most parents know about their kids."

"I'm going to miss seeing you in your dress tomorrow," Stefan sighed.

Bonnie shifted off Stefan's lap to lie on the grass. He stretched out to next to her. "There's prom," Bonnie said with a tinge of hopefulness in her words.

"Yeah, but it's all the way in April. Actually, there's the winter formal. The Black and White Ball that's held at the Governor's mansion. It's in early November."

"That's next month."

"Un-hun, so will you be my date?" Stefan wiggled his eyebrows.

For a second Bonnie just gazed at Stefan's face. It just didn't make sense for him to be seventeen yet have the face of an angel. Perhaps she was being biased, but Bonnie had never seen a more symmetrical and perfect specimen than Stefan Salvatore.

Coming out of her stupor, Bonnie smiled, "I'll think about it and get back to you."

Stefan snorted and traced Bonnie's lips with his finger. "There was something I should have done after our first date, but I was trying to be a gentleman."

Bonnie shivered a little at his touch. "And you don't want to be a gentleman now?"

"No, I don't."

"So don't," Bonnie challenged and leaned forward eating away the space that separated her from Stefan's petal pink lips.

The second their mouths connected and joined in this common union, Bonnie felt an explosion, a rush take place within her veins. Stefan had incredibly soft and talented lips that devoured hers like a man finding an oasis in the middle of a desert. His tongue coaxed her lips apart, a foreign invasion to which Bonnie surrendered easily to. His tongue was cool, tasted of mint, and it was very sensuous. Bonnie didn't think guys his age knew how to kiss. But he did.

Their hearts beat faster, and Stefan rolled until he had Bonnie pinned under him. So much of her skin was exposed in her two -piece that he barely took the time to admire her in it when he first arrived. The Katherine/Damon scene had pretty much robbed his focus, but he could admire her now.

Bonnie might have been young in age, but she more than made up for it in her intelligence, wit, and her body didn't hurt her case either. She consisted of shapes and curves, hollows and dips, a modern-day Venus di Milo. Stefan felt himself hardening behind the fly of his jeans, and reluctantly pulled away ending their first kiss.

Bereft of the separation, Bonnie whimpered but then snuggled closer to Stefan citing it was best they pump their brakes. Her talk with Damon last week had sort of cracked open Pandora's Box to her past. Bonnie might not be on the level of worldly and sexual experience as those around her, but that didn't mean she was a complete and total novice either.

Everyone had secrets.

Lying next to Stefan on the grass was all she wanted in this moment. "That was perfect," Bonnie said.

"Yes it was," Stefan was quick to agree. His eyes were closed as he mentally played back the moment they just shared. He drew his bottom lips in his mouth, and ran his tongue back and forth across it trying to lap up every single drop of Bonnie that he could get.

Feeling her face warm, and the tips of her breasts pebble and harden, Bonnie cleared her throat. "Good luck in San Diego," Bonnie ran her little fingers through his hair.

"Give me a kiss for luck."

So Bonnie did. Kissed Stefan until her lips were raw and swollen and her head was so dizzy with lust that she made a beeline for her bathroom to take a shower before packing her own overnight bag. Giuseppe had reserved rooms at The Beverly Hills Hotel for the wedding party. Currently, her prospective father and her biological mother were at their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties.

Once she was done with that, Bonnie decided to check on Damon.

Pushing open the door to his bedroom, she heard him stomping around furiously. The scene with Katherine must still be an irritant in his backside. From what she's come to know about Damon, it took a lot to ruffle his feathers, and when they were ruffled he had a temper that could rival the most notorious serial killers.

"Damon?" Bonnie stepped into his bedroom and noticed there were clothes and shoes strewn all over the place. Again, it was startling to see, the disarray to his room. Damon was an anal neat freak.

Stomping out of his closet with his cell phone smashed to his ear, Damon was ready to go to town on whoever it was that marched their ass into his room. When he saw it was Bonnie he had to pull the reins on his anger, but still it simmered under his skin. Very briefly he noticed she had changed out of her bikini and had donned a white tunic shirt and jean shorts.

"I don't care what you say, Leo I know it was your fucking ass to sell that blow to Katherine. Do it again and I'll make sure your PO finds out about your side business."

Damon ended the phone call and slammed the device on his end table.

"I'm sorry…" Bonnie stumbled. "I didn't mean…I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fuckin' fantastic how the hell are you?" he snapped.

"Well since you're in a mood I'm just going to go," she headed for the exit.

"Bonnie…wait. I'm pissed and I shouldn't take it out on you."

It took a minute before Bonnie turned back around to acknowledge him. Damon sat down on the edge of his bed. Tentatively Bonnie approached.

They were quiet for a while.

Bonnie wove her arms over her chest. "How long has Katherine been doing drugs?"

Damon shrugged. "Since she got her period," he replied flippantly. "I don't know. I came home one day and she and a few of her girlfriends were laying around snorting white powder up their noses. She said she had it under control, even stopped for a while, but she always starts up again when she's stressed out about something."

"Does Giuseppe know?"

"I would be surprised if he doesn't. For as formidable as he is in the boardroom, when it comes to us…blind ignorance is the key, but he always manages to know what we're up to. So long as our…recreational habits remain recreational, he's not going to say anything."

Bonnie fell at a loss. She had unwittingly stumbled into something she had little to no experience with. None of her friends did drugs, well maybe a few tried to smoke weed here and there, but nothing hardcore like cocaine, heroine, PCP, or meth. Advice wasn't what Damon needed right now so Bonnie didn't try to offer any on the situation.

"Well…George is waiting for me downstairs to take me to the hotel. I guess I'll see you there."

"Yeah? Hotel?"

"Remember we're all staying at The Beverly Hills Hotel overnight?"

"Oh, yeah," Damon scratched his head. It had completely slipped his mind that his dad was getting married tomorrow. "Well Katherine is here passed out finally. Someone has to stay with her."

Bonnie was glad that she still had a solid sixteen hours left before Katherine would be her sister, freeing her from that particular responsibility. "Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow, then. Good night, Damon."

"See you at the alter, Bonnie," Damon watched her leave.

Chapter end.

**A/N: This chapter seemed kind of choppy to me since I usually go into a lot of self-introspection with my characters. There wasn't much of that so perhaps you'll see a little more in the wedding chapter. I'll get to updating when I can, but hearing feedback from you guys is what keeps stories fresh in my mind. Like I said, I don't write these stories for myself, so I'd like to know what you liked or didn't like so forth and so on. Help me feed your thirst lol. I appreciate you guys taking the time to read this. I'm not sure if it's me, and people are just losing hope when it comes to certain ships, but has there been a decline in readership? I'm not sure. But thanks again for reading and leaving me your thoughts. Until next time, love you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Ask and you shall receive. So what I discovered is that Stefonnie is boring, Katherine is irrelevant, and some want there to be some kind of conflict/struggle with Bamon. I'm sure the pace seemed slow since there were such large gaps between updates, but please bear in mind that we're still very early in this story. But I took what you guys said into consideration and came up with something. You might hate it, you might love it, or you might feel like its still not enough, I'll leave that up for you to decide.**

**Also, please bear in mind that this story is not following the plot of Cruel Intentions. This is inspired by the movie, but I have no intentions of following the movie to the letter or taking certain scenes and adding a Bamon spin on them. The only thing I'm really channeling is the inappropriate relationship between Sebastian and Katherine and applying that to Datherine. Thanks and enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

_There are two faces we put on every morning. The face we present to the world, and the one we hide under duty, expectation, and from ourselves. We only expose who we really are to those we trust, to those we love, and sometimes not even then. Sometimes we show our true face to strangers, so who can say they know the real us?_

Light bulbs flashed as the photographer snapped still shots of Abby Bennett preparing for her big day. Abby never thought she'd get to this moment where she'd feel like an American princess. Her past certainly fit the bill of a Disney movie. She came from humble beginnings, worked herself to the bone since the age of sixteen, had a baby, took night classes to finish her education, and floated from one failed relationship to another until finally one day she found her prince.

Well, her prince found her. Mystic Falls was not the sort of place that drew multimillionaires in droves. It wasn't a holiday retreat, or an exclusive resort, but a sleepy town located in southern Virginia where nothing exciting ever happened. It would be the last place someone of Giuseppe Salvatore's creed and caliber would ever find himself stranded yet he did, and irrevocably changed her life.

Abby counted her blessings every morning. She woke up to a man who loved her, loved her daughter, and sought out to make her happy. Sure, he was loaded, had money out the wahzoo, but he had values that he tried to instill in his offspring. It wasn't always a successful campaign, but she could give him an A for effort.

Shelia Bennett walked up and stood behind her only daughter admiring her as her veil was snapped into place. She never imagined herself being "mother of the bride" at the tender age of sixty-five yet there was a first time for everything. Shelia could admit she didn't trust Giuseppe's sincerity when he popped up on her doorstep saying he wanted to marry her daughter. Men like Giuseppe married women like Charlize Theron. They didn't marry single black moms. Nevertheless, she got to know Giuseppe and realized he was a small town Italian kid at heart.

Moreover, Shelia couldn't find it in her heart to tell the man to kick rocks. Especially not after seeing how happy he made the two most important girls in her life. Bonnie didn't take to strangers and outsiders too easily, and she kind of felt responsible for that. Because Abby worked tirelessly, Bonnie spent a lot of time under her care, and Shelia made it a point to drill it into her granddaughter's head to always trust and listen to her instincts. Bonnie did, but then she became too suspicious of nearly everyone. The girl had a multitude of friends back home, but it had taken her a long time to make them.

Living out here in California, away from the foundation that started it all, Shelia was a little worried about Bonnie getting caught up in the Hollywood hype, of getting too big for her britches, and following after the glorified spoiled kids who flossed their parents wealth in ridiculous celebrations for being on the planet for a whopping sixteen years.

But she couldn't worry too much because she along with Abby had implanted too much common sense in Bonnie just for her to throw it all away and act a fool. She was a good girl. A rare breed in this day and time.

"Are you nervous?" Shelia asked her daughter.

"The butterflies are starting, but I'm sure I'll be fine once I see Giuseppe. Mom, I can't believe after forty-two years I'm finally here."

Shelia smiled and tried her best to hold back her unshed tears. "You know what they say, baby, good things happen to those who wait."

Bonnie entered the room next and covered her mouth with her hands the second her eyes landed on her mother. Lately it had become commonplace for Bonnie to see Abby dressed to the nines, but seeing her mother in her wedding gown, her makeup done to a T, instantly made tears sprout to her eyes.

"Oh, don't you start," Shelia chastised. "I just got my makeup on."

All three Bennett women laughed. The photographer was still busily snapping away capturing every little movement on black and white film.

Abby rose to her feet. Bonnie hugged her. In less than an hour her mother would be standing in front of her assembled guests repeating the vows she had written to her groom.

"You look…gorgeous, mom."

"Thank you, baby. So do you."

There was a swift knock on the door prior to it opening. It was Katherine who as usual looked stunning in her Elie Saab gown. At the last second Abby had made her a junior bridesmaid to which the brunette curled her lip, but accepted her role. Abby had explained it would look odd without her being in the bridal party in some capacity since Damon was Giuseppe's best man, and Bonnie was the maid-of-honor.

Bonnie for her part kept her comment about Katherine sobering up nicely to herself knowing it would only open up a can of worms. Plus, it wasn't her day so no one needed to pay any kind of attention to her.

"Are we all set? Everyone is waiting," Katherine asked without a hint of emotion in her voice.

Abby nodded and then smoothed her nervous hands down her dress. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Bonnie handed Abby her bouquet and then picked up the train to her dress.

Shelia grabbed Abby's veil and then kissed her caramel hued cheek. "Goodbye, Abby Bennett. The next time I see you, you'll be Abby Salvatore."

Smiling nervously, Abby swallowed. "I love you, mom."

"Love you, too, baby girl," Sheila pulled the gossamer veil over Abby's face. "Go get married."

* * *

There was pounding going off in his head, there was someone pounding on his door, and there was an insistent pounding going off in his nuts. Damon turned his head towards the intrusive sound and literally saw the door shaking on the hinges.

"What?" he yelled.

"What are you doing?"

Damon looked down at the writhing body under him. He thrust a little deeper causing the girl to cry out. "What does it sound like I'm doing?"

"Hate to interrupt you being balls deep and everything, but ah…your dad is _literally _getting married in thirty minutes."

That definitely put a pause in Damon's deep stroke technique. "Sorry Michelle," spilled from Damon's mouth as he ejected himself from her cushiony warmth earning him a grunt of disapproval.

"Are you serious right now?" Michelle asked, nostrils flaring.

"Did you not hear what my cousin just said? My dad is getting hitched and as much 'fun' as this has been I need to move my ass."

Scrambling out of bed, Damon flew into the bathroom, took the world's fastest shower, brushed his teeth, donned his tux, grimaced at the five o'clock shadow around his jaw and wondered if he had time to shave it off. As he was slipping the cufflinks into his shirt, he was pleased to see that Michelle was dressing even if she were moving as slow as an elderly woman who had just undergone hip replacement surgery. The two of them said nothing to one another.

"I'll call you," Damon tossed out as an obligatory compromise.

"Don't bother," Michelle grumbled.

Damon shook his head at her rudeness. Try to make a girl feel better about herself by dicking her down and she wants to act like she was doing _you _a favor. He was fully prepared to tell her the quickest way to get to hell, but didn't have the time to get into a heated and pointless argument. His father would crucify him if he showed up late at his wedding, and he was already in several doghouses. No need to take up residency anywhere else.

Really all of this was Katherine's fault. The girl had been pouting and feeling neglected and reverted back to her childish ways to garner attention. Damon didn't begrudge his sister's right to snort her brain away, but he had a problem with her corresponding behavior. Katherine was already the type to test the limits of propriety and decency, and add in her drug use she was a walking True Hollywood Story. There were things Damon indulged in and things he abstained from, but Katherine never really learned those limits or at the very least she never adhered to them. As such, when she got like this he took responsibility for her.

But the chick was a major cramp in his style. That was for sure. His goal was to put all of his energy into scratching his Bonnie itch, but Katherine was making it virtually impossible by going around, getting high, and kissing him like they were fuck buddies.

Damon had to talk and back talk just to get Michelle to agree to stay afterwards, once the party died down and everyone Crip-walked their asses back home. He felt bad that Katherine unleashed her anger on the chick and only wanted to make it up to her. He wasn't really interested in sleeping with her—well a little interested—so when she threw him the pussy like a football he caught it.

End of story.

Yet it only served to be another waste of his time.

Now he was rushing through the labyrinth of his family home. He met up with Tyler who was dressed in an equally dapper tuxedo. Tyler had been too drunk to drive home and crashed in one of the many guestrooms of the Salvatore villa. He also had had the foresight to bring his wedding threads with him knowing he'd be too shitfaced to make it back to LA.

"My mom has been blowing up my phone yet again," Tyler complained, "threatening to disown my half Gringo ass if I don't get it back to LA. So I took it upon myself to call Steve."

Damon clapped a hand on Tyler's shoulder. "This is why you're my favorite person."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Where's Katherine?" Damon asked.

"She split a couple of hours ago," Tyler told him.

The two young bucks made it to the back of the property more specifically the helipad where a Salvatore Industries helicopter was waiting, blades spinning.

Climbing aboard and putting the headphones on, Damon spoke into the microphone. "This is going to set Giuseppe back twenty grand."

"Dude, relax. This is a freebie. He's getting married so the tab falls on my dad," Tyler grinned.

"Richard is going to lynch you."

Smiling, Tyler said, "Then call Al Sharpton and report it as a hate crime. Eh yo take us up," he said to the pilot.

Up and away they went traveling over the Pacific, then the city, before landing on a private lot located behind Tyler's family home. Waiting for them was a golf cart manned by security personnel who throttled the little engine until finally dumping them off near the swimming pool. The cousins broke out into a run when they heard the music strike up, and barely made it to their places right before the bridal party made their way to the solarium where the wedding was taking place.

Giuseppe glared at his son. "So glad you could join us."

"It's the least I could do."

"Whatever, Damon. Just smile damnit."

And that's what Damon did for the next several hours until his face was numb. Yet seeing Bonnie in her gown certainly put a huge grin on his face that refused to budge. Several times throughout the ceremony he tried to catch her eyes, but she kept hers trained on the couple who were exchanging the most dully sentimental vows in the history of wedding vows.

Damon didn't snap out of it until the audience began applauding. It was over. His dad was married.

Giuseppe and Abby made their way down the aisle. Damon shifted into position and held out his arm for Bonnie to accept. Her touch was feather-light. Finally they exchanged a look. He winked at her and she actually smiled back.

He escorted her down the aisle thinking now it was time for the real fun to begin.

* * *

**The Beverly Hills Hotel**

Essentially her part was over. As the good daughter, she accepted Giuseppe into her life without a shred of grief and he ate her bullshit like it was Godiva chocolate. She expressed the right amount of concern in potentially being corrupted by his two incorrigible children, and as promised Giuseppe tried to keep a leash on Damon and Katherine. For now Bonnie could rest easy, let her hair down. She was in.

The sound of the ringing telephone sounded off in her ear as she studied her nails before drawing her attention to her reflection. Bonnie twisted her head from left to right wondering if she should get highlights or a rinse. She could definitely benefit from a makeover, which wouldn't be unusual. At this point it would almost be a requirement. Bonnie allowed herself to be vain for twenty seconds as she lamented over the fact that her lips, though shaped in the form of Cupid's bow could have benefited from being more centered on her face. It wasn't terribly noticeable until she pursed them, but they became symmetrical with her nose whenever she smiled.

Finally the person she was dialing picked up and an instantaneous smile split her face.

"It's official," Bonnie spoke into the receiver. "They're married. You owe me a C-note," she laughed and stuffed her cell phone between her cheek and shoulder as she reached up to take out one diamond pendant earring.

"I didn't think it was going to go down," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Never underestimate the skills of a very determined sixteen year old. Presently they are traveling by private jet to Maldives where hopefully my mom will keep her mouth shut, better yet keep her _mouth_ on a very specific body part of Giuseppe's. Keep him happy, keep him satisfied. She should be able to do that much," Bonnie snorted.

"So what's your next move?"

Bonnie responded without hesitation. "Convince my new daddy to send his pestilent adoptive daughter away. Katherine is old enough to live on her own so getting rid of her shouldn't be that hard. Bitch is a cokehead," she sighed. "I get my trust fund and its easy living from here on out."

"Do you honestly think it'll be that easy? That he's simply going to hand over the keys to the fortress without stipulations?"

"Giuseppe loves me and I intend to keep it that way," Bonnie ran a finger over her left eyebrow. "As long as he feels like we're bonding, he won't deny me anything. And trust me I know how to make him feel like we have a connection."

The voice on the other end chuckled dryly. "Oh really? And how do you plan to do that? You're a virtual saint."

Bonnie licked her teeth. "Name a saint that would fuck their stepfather just to get him to cut a check. But I'll leave that up to mom-dukes. Apparently Abby still had enough elastically in her va-jay jay to convince Giuseppe to put a ring on it. Therefore all I have to do is sit back and be the good obedient Bonnie everyone believes I am."

"We both know that isn't the case."

Bonnie smiled. "Innocent until proven guilty."

"Is his son going to be a problem?"

"No, Damon...he's cool."

There was a beat. "You really think they're in love?"

"I've seen them together…they're in love. Things couldn't have worked out any better. Besides, Giuseppe needed someone like my mom in his life."

There was no comment on that. "So when are you coming to visit?"

Bonnie brushed a hand over the blush colored chiffon skirt of her bridesmaids dress. The wedding had ended hours ago but she had been procrastinating in taking it off. The ceremony had been beautiful—her mother looked like the epitome of old Hollywood glamour in her custom made Vivienne Westwood haute couture dress. Giuseppe the strapping and virile groom attired in the best Italian satin had stood proudly waiting for his bride in front of their hundred and seventy-five guests. The ballroom at the Lockwood estate had been an explosion of roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers that the heady perfume nearly affected Bonnie's sinuses. The reception that followed offered the flamboyant and tasteful cuisine Bonnie had gotten used to eating.

"Do you miss me?" Bonnie felt her kitty awakening at the deep timbre of the speaker's voice.

"You know I do. I'm beating my meat as we speak."

Bonnie laughed and rolled her eyes. "You continue to do that."

"Touch yourself," came the succinct reply.

"No."

A knock sounded on her door saving her from engaging in phone sex that would only mount to exacerbate her problem. Bonnie already guessed at who it was. He had been following her with his eyes all night, and though they danced to a few songs together, and even joked around a bit, Bonnie kept her blockade in place.

"I have to go. I believe my pussy hungry stepbrother is knocking on my door."

Bonnie was greeted by the sound of laughter. "I guess it would be pretty pointless on my end to tell you to be careful and watch your back?"

"Pretty much," Bonnie agreed. "Veni, vidi, vici."

"Ditto, my little heartkiller."

Placing her cell phone on the vanity top, Bonnie got to her feet and crossed over the deluxe guestroom suite to the front door. She took a cursory look out the peephole and just as she suspected it was Damon.

It was time to put that mask back on.

Throwing open the door, Bonnie placed a beguiling smile on her face before holding her arms and leaning against the door frame.

Damon was still attired in his suit which didn't surprise Bonnie terribly. He presented her with that lazy, lopsided smirk of his while his eyes devoured her body.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Yes, Damon?"

"So glad you didn't refer to me as 'bro'. Can I come in or are you going to keep me out in this hallway all night?"

"Oh, you're not the bell hop? Apologies," Bonnie stared at her new brother with faux contriteness to which Damon shook his head. "You can come in." Bonnie turned and listened as the door closed and the lock clicked into place after Damon's entry.

Damon for his part looked around the room noting it was decorated in hues of cream and gold. As he brought his cerulean eyes back on Bonnie she seemed to fit right in with the interior. He had danced with pretty girls all night, but none of them could really hold a candle to Bonnie. The longer he stared at her, the harder he felt himself getting behind the seam of his pants.

Bonnie looked at Damon over her shoulder prior to turning around to face him. "You're being unusually quiet. Are you feeling okay?"

Stuffing his hands in his pocket to hide his erection, Damon rocked on his heels. "I'm feeling fine. In fact I'm feeling so fine that me and a couple of the fellas are going out tonight. Do you want to roll?"

Bonnie stretched her arms over her head. "I'm not sure. It's getting kind of late."

Damon rolled his pretty boy eyes and crossed over to stand right in front of Bonnie. "Your definition of 'late' should be redefined."

"Should it?" Bonnie pulled up the hem of her floor sweeping dress naturally drawing Damon's attention. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and hiked up her right leg to take off her stilettos.

Damon flicked his wrist to check the time on his Rolex. "It's not even midnight."

"I know but I've been up and running around since five this morning. I'm tired."

"Or buzzed. You had a few glasses of champagne at the reception if my eyes didn't deceive me," Damon sat down next to her.

"I make exceptions to my no-alcohol policy when it comes to my mom getting married. So sue me."

"No need for me to wake my lawyer out of his sleep. So how does it feel to be a part of the Salvatore family?"

"I thought I was already a part of the family?"

Damon hunched a shoulder. "It's official now."

"Then I guess it feels good. I have a dad now, and siblings," Bonnie playfully bumped her shoulder with Damon's who was a little surprised by her carefree attitude. This certainly wasn't the Bonnie he had been living with for the last two months. Perhaps she only doled out her sweet side in doses as not to spoil him.

"Well since you're feeling good wouldn't it be a good idea to go tear up the town with me? Besides, you owe me a dance."

Bonnie gawked at her stepbrother. "We danced together twice!"

"I don't recall that," Damon arched an eyebrow.

"I think you're too young to have Alzheimer's," Bonnie huffed and then pushed herself to her feet. She pivoted until she stood in front of Damon who fixed his gaze on her inquisitively. Bonnie extended her hand and was graced with a perplexed expression from Damon. "Dance with me."

Damon's eyes crinkled at the corners in suspicion. Bonnie being nice to him didn't add up but maybe she was doing it simply because they were family now, and whatever anxiety she might have been feeling was left by the wayside the minute his father and her mother said 'I do'. Yet he wouldn't make a big deal out of this because this could very well be the last time Bonnie took the initiative to do something sweet and nice and it would be back to business as usual.

Rising to his feet, Damon wrapped one arm around Bonnie's waist while the other took possession of her hand. They moved from side to side in the music-less room, Bonnie staring up at him while he looked down at her.

"This is nice," Damon remarked. Being this close to her certainly wasn't helping with his erection, which he was sure Bonnie could feel yet she wasn't hurling insults at him nor ordering him out of her room.

Bonnie didn't comment on that. She instead held herself very rigidly because sure enough there was something nudging her down below. To distract herself from the intimate press of their bodies, Bonnie slid her right hand up Damon's chest until her fingers bumped into his bow tie. She grabbed a hold of one end of the black ribbon and pulled.

Damon gulped reflexively, and then admonished himself. This girl shouldn't be making him feel like a prepubescent boy about to see his first pair of titties or eat his first pussy.

Once his bow tie was unraveled Bonnie worked one button out of the hole of his starched dress shirt, followed by another button until she could see his clavicle.

A volcano was roaring within Damon's veins and he was working overtime not to throw Bonnie down on the bed, hike up her dress, impale her on his hard dick, and pound into her until they either broke the bed or the wall or made the crystal chandelier come crashing down.

Bonnie was no dummy. She knew she had Damon right on the edge. She looked up at him from beneath her false eyelashes. "How does that feel? Can the air travel better to your inflated head?"

And just like that whatever spell was weaving around them was blown to pieces by incendiaries.

"If you were hoping it might divert the blood from another head…try again," Damon winked.

Bonnie figured this was the part the light bulb was supposed to go off over her head and she would throw herself clean across the room in outrage that he would presume to get hard in her presence, but instead she continued dancing.

Seeing that she wasn't going to take the bait, Damon moved on. "Since you're now family—officially," he amended, "there is a custom all Salvatore's adhere by when you greet a family member."

"Oh really? And what might that be?"

"Just follow my lead," the dark-haired Salvatore directed as he lowered his head and then pressed his lips against the apple of Bonnie's cheek before kissing her other cheek. He repeated the action and pulled away. "Got it?"

Bonnie nodded. She had seen this done in historical European movies.

"Now lets try it out. Together," Damon said and moved to kiss her cheeks once more reveling in the feel of Bonnie's warm lips against his cool skin and right when she was about to pull away, he aimed his lips for hers.

Their mouths touched, molded together like the Ying and the Yang sign. It was exploratory at best and Damon told himself not to take over and deepen the kiss, but when Bonnie slightly parted her lips his brain interpreted it as an invitation to slip his tongue inside.

He did so. The elongated muscle brushed against her pearly white teeth yet those same teeth clamped down on the tip of his tongue causing his eyes to spring open and immediately water.

Damon pulled away abruptly, holding on to his mouth. Yep, this girl was going to turn all of their private encounters into some kind of physical assault. "_What the fuck?"_

Bonnie's eyes went heavenward. "Oh, calm down. I don't have rabies."

Damon snorted. "That's comforting to know."

Bonnie would never admit that his lips felt nice, well better than nice against hers. Bonnie sensed that Damon was holding back and for half a second she did wonder what it would feel like to have him really kiss her, to assault her mouth like a tidal wave taking out a shipping dock.

Bonnie shook her head to clear it. She had to remember her objective and that was…well it was kind of hard to remember since her mouth still tingled from her lip hockey session with Damon.

_Oh, right _Stefan her brain reminded her.

"I didn't mean to bite you," Bonnie apologized. "It was just a gut reaction because we're not supposed to be _kissing_."

"Yeah," Damon grumbled. "Did you like it?"

"Like what?" Bonnie feigned ignorance.

Damon rolled his eyes. "The kiss, _our _kiss."

"For the both of us I'm going to pretend it didn't happen."

"Why?" Damon slithered closer to her. "I liked it. I can make it even better."

"I'm sure you could," Bonnie found herself unable to deny his claim. "But it's…"

"Wrong? According to whom?" Damon loomed over Bonnie. "Society? Our parents? I can tell you were getting into it. But you want to hold back," he placed his hands on her hips as his chin made contact with her forehead.

Against her will or maybe it was being aided and abated, Bonnie felt her body heat rising. She cleared her throat. "Today was a beautiful day, Damon. Let's not ruin it."

He cupped her cheeks and tilted her chin upwards trapping her like a net with his eyes. "Give me a do-over."

Bonnie shook her head. She needed to put a stop to this. She had been doing an admirable job in not letting Damon get under her skin, but oftentimes it was difficult. Especially with the way he sometimes looked at her. And with alcohol following through her bloodstream her immunity wasn't at a hundred percent. Add in the fact she was horny, not a good combination when alone with Damon Salvatore.

"I'll go out with you."

He blinked at hearing her words.

Seeing that Damon had hopped off the lust-filled path he had been on, Bonnie pressed forward. "I'll go out with you and the fellas."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "You want to go out? You rather not get in your jammies and watch reruns of _The Golden Girls_?"

Grinning, Bonnie said, "Actually that's one of my favorite shows."

Snorting, Damon took a step back and pulled his loose bow tie from around his neck, balled it up and stuffed it in his pocket with the thong that had been placed there earlier by his father's assistant.

"All right. I'll leave you to change unless you want my help," Damon leered.

"That won't be necessary. I'll be ready in an hour."

* * *

Exclusive. This was the place where being young, beautiful, wealthy, and famous could get you through the front door. It didn't matter how hard you flirted with the bouncer, or how many greenbacks you flashed, if you didn't have the right credentials you weren't getting in.

Bonnie was positive that if she showed up at Greystone Manor located in West Hollywood on her own, after being laughed at, she would get a boot to her ass, and told to come back as soon as she became cool. But like the gates of Heaven opening, nothing would be denied to her tonight.

Cavorting in an entourage of fifteen deep; the only people Bonnie could say she knew on a semi-personal level were Damon, Lexi, her sister Amber, Sarah, Tyler, and Jackson. Holding onto Sarah's hand tightly so they wouldn't be separated in the gulf of bodies, Bonnie's eyes were wide as she tried to take in everything. This would be her world now. Her oyster.

Everywhere Bonnie looked she saw one disgustingly beautiful person after another. Guys danced on top of women on top of men. It was all one hedonistic ball of energy and lust all stuffed, glued, or sewn into designer clothing.

Damon outfitted in customary black led the pack as he immediately went over to a secluded spot that had been cornered off with red velvet rope. Bonnie held back and observed as Damon talked shop with the no-nonsense bouncer. Twenty minutes into the Hollywood club scene, her stilettos were pinching her feet. Bonnie couldn't wait to sit down but the lure of the music, the hypnotic beat of the bass was calling her to the dance floor. She was finding it difficult to keep still, and began to cut a small jig right there.

Bonnie came out of her musings when she noticed the crowd shifted over to the lounge area and took up residency on the plush couches. Two sterling silver pails of champagne materialized out of nowhere. Bonnie found herself sandwiched on a love seat between Sarah and Jackson.

Jackson wasted no time reaching for the blunt in his back pocket. He held it out to Bonnie after lighting the tip. "Try some."

Shaking her head, Bonnie declined and then caught Damon's eye. He was standing, bottle of Moet in his hand popping the cork. A few girls—groupies—Bonnie should call them all squealed in delight and faux outrage at potentially being doused with the expensive liquid. Yet while all of that had taken place, Damon had found it impossible to tear his eyes off Bonnie.

Could you really blame a guy, though? The black leather and suede mini dress pushed up her more than average chest, cinched her waist, and looked painted on her hips leaving her sculpted legs exposed. Bonnie's cute manicured toes were housed in a pair of strappy high heels. Her long tresses were parted sharply down the middle and hung pin straight draping her shoulders. That sinful little mouth of hers that could cut a man a thousand ways from Sunday was smeared in cardinal red lipstick.

He handed her a glass of bubbly to which she held up the glass before taking a dainty sip. Jackson curled his lip. He knew Damon was the master of eye fucking and if he kept at it Bonnie would be pregnant, Immaculate Conception style.

So to break up this bonding moment, Jackson leaned over and whispered something in Bonnie's ear, making sure his lips brushed against its outer shell. "You smell delicious," he said. Most girls shivered when he pulled that subtle move, but Bonnie had no kind of outward reaction. In fact her head was turned away from him. She was too busy laughing at something Tyler or Sarah had said.

"I said you smell delicious!" Jackson practically shouted in Bonnie's ear. Several people in their general area turned and stared at him quizzically.

"What?" Bonnie asked confusedly before taking another sip of Moet. She wasn't much of a drinker. Bonnie had always been able to achieve a natural high.

"Never mind," Jackson grumbled.

"Let's dance," Sarah suggested, pulling Bonnie up by the arm. The two of them maneuvered their way out of the VIP area.

Lexi who had kept a close watch of Jackson's interaction with Bonnie, glared at him. "What are you trying to do? She doesn't want to take a ride on your disco stick, asshole, so give it up. It's pathetic at this point."

Instead of verbally replying, Jackson flipped her the bird, a nice stiff one he'd wish she'd plug her ass with.

Damon snickered and took a seat on the arm of one of the plush sofas. He wasn't sitting alone for two minutes before a blond came slithering up to him, snaking a hand around the back of his neck and leaving a metallic pink stain on his cheek.

"Long time, no see," the blonde purred suggestively.

Damon was trying to recall her name. Nothing was coming to him. "Same here," he replied.

The blonde smiled and tried to make a grab at his junk, but Damon shot up to his feet. He soon got distracted as he caught a brief glimpse of Bonnie dancing with Sarah. As if sensing his eyes were on her, Bonnie found his hypnotic orbs and crooked a finger for him to draw closer. Saying nothing he moved out into the crowd of dancing bodies as "One More Night" by Maroon 5 spilled from the speakers.

Damon slipped around bodies like a phantom hardly touching anyone as he made his way through the crowd until he was in reaching distance of Bonnie. She took him by the hand and drew him in between her and Sarah.

Bonnie started lip syncing to the lyrics which did seem fitting to their present situation. They did sometimes go hard at one another like they were going to war although he had been trying to draw a cease fire between them.

Yet they danced like two people were on their way to being friends. Damon wanted to question why she seemed to have flipped a switch, why she was actually being nice to him, but what would be the point? If this meant she was finally warming up to him, he'd take it. Besides he still had all of his teeth after he kissed her and wouldn't have to be measured for dentures so that was a step in the right direction.

Sarah was bumping her butt into his before turning around to rub her melons on his back. Damon tried not to let that distract him too much as he kept his vision locked on Bonnie who mostly danced with her eyes closed and her arms lifted in the air.

"This is fun!" Bonnie shouted into his ear. Damon nodded. "I'm sorry I've been so uptight with you. I was just nervous."

Damon brushed off her apology with the wave of his hand. "I am intimidating."

Bonnie flashed him a slightly irritated look. "You're not intimidating—annoying yes," she ended with a smile.

Before they were aware of it, one song melted into another and they had danced to seven songs straight. Feeling more than parched, Damon went off to fetch drinks leaving the girls to bump and grind on one another. When he returned he, Sarah, and Bonnie did shots, and danced until smoke was literally coming from their shoes. Sarah wobbled her way to go take a break while Bonnie said:

"I need to use the little girl's room."

"Be careful," Damon said and tipped up a bottle of vodka to his lips.

Thankfully when she reached the bathroom the line wasn't wrapped around the building and Bonnie was able to conduct her business expeditiously.

Tripping her way out of the ladies room, Bonnie danced her way back to the last place she saw her congregation of friends. Several men tried to pull her into dances, but Bonnie declined although she was tempted. Oh so tempted especially when one guy she could have sworn was in fact Chris Pine or his double slid his hand to cup her elbow as he bent at the knees to whisper in her ear.

Her cheeks reddened at his filthy suggestion and she may have pinched his ass to which he slapped hers in return. The sting felt good and definitely jarred some memories she had worked overtime to deny their very existence.

Dodging out of the way of two women who looked ready to throw punches, Bonnie kept her gaze locked on the hair pulling twins until she ran into someone's back.

"Oomph," Bonnie wheezed.

The person she nearly motor-boated turned around and gazed down at her. It took a moment for the haze to clear from her mind and once it did Bonnie wanted to retreat.

_Oh no, _she thought and tried to take a step back only to find there was nowhere for her to go. She was literally trapped in a wall of people, stuck with the last person she ever expected to see on the west coast.

Nothing about him had changed. His blue eyes still burned like a methane flame, his blonde hair was cropped close to his scalp a la military style, and his grizzled cheeks were still perfectly chiseled marble. His body, which was a work of art only seemed more muscled to Bonnie especially in his broad shoulders and the expanse of his shirt if by its tightness alone didn't spell the obvious. The man was a diehard gym freak. Practically lived there at the time the two of them were…acquainted.

Why was she trying to sugarcoat this? This man, this Adonis standing before her had tasted her skin when it was dampened with sweat, lapped at the nectar that spilled between her quaking and quivering thighs, teased her milk chocolate nipples with the clever flick of his dangerous tongue, kissed her like a dehydrated man, and most importantly buried all nine inches of his shaft in her weeping cunt.

Bonnie could recall the way the veins bulged on the stem of his penis before disappearing under the hood of its bulbous head. She remembered the way her lips wrapped around his rod and the way he held her head prisoner between his large hands as he guided her on just the right way to clean his pole.

It was hard swallowing and from the way his blue eyes deepened to indigo, he was remembering the exact same thing. The hours he spent cradled between her thighs, teasing her with his pudgy fingers denying her the very thing she felt desperate to have.

He made her into a woman a week after she turned sixteen, and he said once she had been with a man, a _real_ man there was no way a little boy would ever be able to make her come.

Bonnie tried to prove his hypothesis wrong but all of her attempts ended in failure. No one held her tightly enough, no one kissed her as deeply, no one could incinerate her down to putty with just a single look.

But he could.

He smiled revealing those perfectly straight white teeth, a genuine cinematic smile. "The world_ is_ a small place," he said. "What are the chances of the two of us being in California? Must be fate."

Bonnie tried to pick up her feet to flee. Even now she felt her defenses weakening. Her legs were beginning to shake, her hands trembled, and he hadn't even touched her. Just his presence was enough to reduce her to a ball of nerves.

"Don't I get a hug?" he asked.

If she touched him…Bonnie wouldn't even entertain the thought.

"What are you doing here, Brady?" she attempted to growl.

To her horror he infiltrated her space. Bonnie inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne. "So you do remember my name. As many times as you used to scream it."

"I have to go," Bonnie turned to flee, but he caught her around the waist bringing her flush against his hard muscular front. Her eyes closed of their own volition as heat filled her womb.

"Not so fast. I still wake up the middle of the night harder than granite missing the fact I can't...bury myself in your tight, dripping snatch. Remember, Bonnie no one forgets their first," Brady planted a deep kiss to her neck.

Her clit shamelessly hardened.

Bonnie wiggled away then turned to face him. She needed a glass of water. "I'm still a minor, Brady and a man in your position should _never _forget that."

He smiled again as carefree as a hippie. "I quit the force. Gave it all up for you."

_Fuck, _" I really have to go," Bonnie attempted to scamper away.

Brady let her escape a few feet before shouting. "Give my congratulations to your mother on her nuptials. But maybe I can do it myself seeing as how I have an interview with the head of security at Salvatore Industries."

The blood in Bonnie's body turned to pure ice. She said nothing as she pushed her way through the crowd.

Bonnie almost knocked Damon over when she made it back over to him. "Can we go?"

He wasn't ready to leave but as he examined Bonnie he noticed she looked flustered. "Can you give me an hour?"

Shaking her head like a petulant child, Bonnie was ready to leave now! Before she went sneeking out Brady and leaving with him.

"I can give you a ride back to the hotel," Lexi offered. The club scene was never really her thing but her sister was the partier and she only tagged along to keep an eye on her.

"Thank you, Lexi."

Damon pulled Bonnie in for a hug and kissed her cheek. "I'll stop by your room whenever I manage to tear myself away from here."

Bonnie nodded, not really listening to him. She was too busy crowd surfing.

"Ready?" Lexi asked.

"See you, Damon," Bonnie said and hightailed it out of the club. She didn't allow herself to breathe until she was in the backseat of Lexi's Audi.

Everyone had secrets and one of hers had followed her three-thousand miles across the nation. Just ducky.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Not sure if that was much of a plot twist, but I was ambiguous with Bonnie's sexual past, so we'll definitely see how this all plays out. And yes Brady is Brady the werewolf from S2. Please don't freak out thinking with his arrival it will take Bamon longer to occur. In trying to keep Bonnie in character but also giving her an edge, in my mind it would be illogical for Bonnie to suddenly have a thing for Damon when just a chapter ago she seemed repulsed by him. So to speed things along, Bonnie has another side that you'll begin to see come to the surface, and how that shifts her relationship with Damon. Just exactly who is she? What are her true motives? And what lengths is she willing to go to get what she wants? Stefonnie will still be featured, and Katherine's storyline I ask that you not write her off just yet because what I have planned is something I've NEVER written about. And in terms of Damon, I didn't want him to be bad or evil, just a pervert lol. But thanks for reading! If you know me, you know my style. Like Tina Turner said I never do "nice and easy". Love you guys. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: When I say I was sweating like a crackhead at a police interrogation when I uploaded the last chapter, I kid you not I was. I didn't know if you guys would be receptive or flip over tables at the nice little plot twist I decided to throw in there. But from the reviews I can see I had no reason to worry and I'm glad you guys liked it. In the Bonnie fandom I've realized you can only expound so much creative license with her narrative because some people are sticklers for Bonnie remaining in character. So in fair warning, you might not like Bonnie as the story progresses or you might still find common ground with her. Anything is liable to happen, but just keep an open-mind and thank you for taking the ride with me!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Catalina Island, California**

He was sure he was seeing things. Damon had only been sleeping for maybe an hour two at the most but he suddenly woke up when he felt that someone was standing in his bedroom. He stretched his baby blues to make sure the silhouette he was looking at was in fact real and not a figment of his dirty imagination. It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness of his room, and it certainly didn't take him long to figure out who was hovering at the edge of his bed.

She stood with her arms folded across her torso as if she were in pain. Damon sat up, the sheet falling away to reveal he was shirtless. Out of habit, Damon rubbed his eyes and then cleared his throat.

"Bonnie?"

"I…I didn't mean to wake you."

"What's wrong?" Something had to be wrong if she were standing in his bedroom in the dead of night.

"I couldn't sleep. Do you mind if I…if I…"

A Cheshire cat grin stretched across his face slyly, but it soon disappeared. Bonnie was slightly trembling and she was staring at her feet. He wasn't one to jump to any kind of conclusions. Since the wedding Bonnie was distracted like she had a lot on her mind. Though she worked to cover it up, he recognized the signs that something was bothering her. The question that remained was: what was it?

"You want to crash here?" Damon asked.

Bonnie nodded her head. "I can go if…"

Without further prompting, Damon threw the covers back in invitation. Bonnie hesitated for a second before climbing over to the vacant side of his skyscraper sized bed. He reached for her hand to pull her up.

Bonnie threw him a grateful, conciliatory smile as she slipped her legs under the covers and lied down. Damon shifted beside her, facing her, wondering what was going on with her. Bonnie wasn't the sort to seek him out for anything.

"Thank you."

"Don't sweat it."

They lied in silence for a while. Bonnie could feel his gaze penetrating her through the darkness of his bedroom. It was unnerving as well as comforting because it's kind of what she's come to expect from Damon. She wasn't sure if was something he did purposely—stare at people as if he was trying to melt the skin off their bones—or if was just a quirk of his. In any case she would have been annoyed in three seconds or less on a good day, but being around him like this was beginning to become familiar to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Damon offered up an ear if there was something she wanted or needed to get off her chest.

Bonnie shook her head. "I just didn't want to sleep alone."

In the short time they've known one another Bonnie never came across a girl who was scared of anything. The weather was fine so that wasn't the reason she scuttled from one end of the estate to crawl her way into his bed. And she certainly couldn't be having relationship issues because if was fairly easy to see that things were sickeningly sweet between she and Stefan.

Damon's breath fanned across her cheek. Bonnie looked to her right to face him. He was close to her but still far enough away that she didn't feel crowded. Wordlessly Bonnie reached for his arm and drew it over her waist as she rolled until her back was pressed against his chest. She closed her eyes and tried to forget about the monsters from her past.

Unfortunately they weren't quite so ready to forget about her.

* * *

**Mystic Falls 2011**

This had been their biggest hit to date and the adrenaline still rushed through her veins like rocket fuel. They didn't have time to shift through their spoils and take stock of everything their greedy little hands snatched without alerting the attention of a single soul. This was possibly easier than taking candy from a baby, and since this wasn't their first heist it seemed to be getting easier and easier with each 'job'.

But Bonnie knew it would be too early and dangerous to think they were untouchable. When you allowed cockiness to override reason and rationality that's when mistakes happened, and people got sloppy. You were liable to leave behind telling and incriminating information for anyone to find.

Still her feet pounded against the asphalt as the black canvas bag attached to her back bounced back and forth as she and her four friends ran for the hills.

The party they raided was now being raided by the cops. Noise ordinance violation is what drew the white and blue to the warehouse apartment complex. That hadn't been in the plans, the cards tonight, and the Fab Five as they dubbed themselves had to cut their search off prematurely. Not like it mattered. Karasaun said she had found the mom's jewelry case and from what she could see all the jewels, trinkets, and rings inside looked real. Real enough, had been Ayesha's assessment. It didn't matter though because they were liable to get something for it from some asshole.

Flashing red, blue, and white lights caught them all up short as they attempted to skid to a stop in their black Nike's.

"This way!" Ayesha said as she led the pack though a small alley between buildings.

They hunched down low, breathing like horses that just ran a race, hearts pounding, anxiety making every shadow look like a uniformed cop.

Pulling her hood off, Bonnie shook out her hair and began stripping out of the back sweat shirt and jogging pants. Wordlessly her friends followed suit.

"We need to stash this shit somewhere and act like we're just five girls out for a walk," Bonnie suggested.

Chris curled her plump lip as she glared at Bonnie. "Taking a walk at one in the gotdamn morning?"

"We don't have any other options, Chris. It's either we play dumb or we get busted. And I don't know about you, but I'm too cute to go to jail," Ayesha said.

Underneath their boyish clothes were their party outfits—tight dresses in a myriad of loud colors. They certainly wouldn't have been admitted to the party looking like a pair of robbers. They were just five wide-eyed small town girls out looking to add some fun to their otherwise dismal and monotonous lives.

Rolling and stuffing their discarded clothes under a pair of bushes that hadn't been whacked in years it seemed, the girls felt they wouldn't be discovered any time soon, and even if they were, it's not like their names were stitched into them. For a second they debated on how to carry their loot without it being so obvious they had been up to no good.

Ayesha and Chris who were seniors and the undisputed leaders of Bonnie's group went back and forth, arguing and insulting one another on who was better suited to carry the bags.

"Shush, someone is gonna hear you guys if you don't cut all that bitching out!" Karasaun had ordered.

Suddenly a bright light shone down on them causing all the girls to scream and turn around. They couldn't make out the face of the person blocking one exit out of the alley.

"Fuck!" Bonnie cursed softly and tried to discreetly reach for her canvas bag with her foot in order to kick it under the bushes with their clothes. Girls, they could never agree to anything peacefully sometimes.

"Put your hands up where I can see them!" said a deep authoritative voice.

Chris and Ayesha were the defiant ones as the rest of the group immediately did as told.

"Screw this, I'm out!" Karasaun said and took off towards the back of the alley.

Startled, Bonnie jumped out of the way as the rest of her crew took off leaving her alone.

She heard a gun cock into place as the officer squawked orders into his radio calling for back up.

Bonnie stood like a deer caught in headlights—literally as the officer approached. He took his flashlight and led a tour over her body before he ordered her to face the wall and put her hands behind her back.

"I don't know if you're smart or stupid for not running," the officer said his voice much too close to her ear for her liking.

Foreign hands slid over her body and she tried not to whimper although a tear did roll down her cheek.

"Do you have any weapons or drugs on you?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"Speak up! I can't hear you!" the officer demanded.

"No," Bonnie said as her bare legs were kicked apart. The officer's hand slid up one leg before going down her adjacent one, but his touch was less frisky and more like a caress. She stiffened when the officer felt around the underside of her breasts. He pressed against her and she could feel the hard planes of his chest and washboard stomach. Bonnie bit into her bottom lip wondering just exactly how this was going to play out.

Bonnie winced as he slapped cold metal handcuffs around her tiny wrists.

"Don't move," the officer ordered and then searched the ground with his flashlight and spotted their rolled up clothes and the bags of stolen goods. The officer quickly looked through the bags and didn't see any price tags attached to the items inside.

"I'm assuming you and your friends were just borrowing this stuff?" his tone flippant.

"I know my rights," Bonnie replied shakily. "I don't have to talk to you without a lawyer present."

The voice over the officer's radio interrupted this pre-interrogation. Her other friends had been rounded up.

There was silence for a moment as the officer brought the flashlight back over to Bonnie as if assessing her again.

"Let them go. They aren't the ones I saw."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Relief flooded Bonnie. Her friends would be okay, but what about her? Would he be gracious enough and let her go? Bonnie didn't chance looking at the officer afraid it might jinx his generosity.

"I'm letting your friends go…but what am I to do with you?" the officer asked curiously.

"You could…you could let me go too if I promise to return this stuff," Bonnie said softly.

"I could, but I'm a man of the law and someone has to take responsibility for this."

"Please, officer, I don't want to go to jail," Bonnie cried.

"Then you should have thought about that before you decided it would be a good idea to steal from people. Come on."

"No!" Bonnie foolishly tried to dig her feet into the asphalt.

"Are you resisting arrest?" the officer jerked Bonnie to a stop.

"No, I'm sorry. Please! I don't do things like this. I'll do anything! I'm sorry. Please don't send me to jail."

They were still standing in the alley but Bonnie could see his squad car parked not far. The silence that engulfed the area was thick and the chill of the night was sinking into Bonnie's bones. Her fingertips were prickling and she could see her breath when she exhaled.

"You'll do anything?" the officer asked.

Bonnie gulped. Well, not anything obviously, but people say the darndest things when they find themselves on the wrong side of the law.

"What's your name?" the officer inquired.

"Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett, sir."

"How old are you, Bonnie Bennett?"

"I'm…fifteen."

Bonnie couldn't see the officer since he was standing a little behind her, and she was too terrified to look at his face, and into his eyes. From the sound of his voice alone she would peg him as being handsome, but a nice sounding voice didn't always equate to being good looking.

"When's your date of birth, Bonnie Bennett?"

"I turn sixteen in two weeks," Bonnie was perplexed. What was he getting at?

"If I make this stuff disappear and let you go, do you promise to do anything for me?"

Alarm sliced through Bonnie. What kind of pervert cop was this?

What exactly was he expecting her to do? Sure she had kissed a few boys in her day and time, but that's as far as she went. If this officer was looking for more, Bonnie wasn't sure she could hand over something as valuable as her virginity in order to escape facing hard time. Yet what were her other options? Her friends would be of no help to her, especially not Chris and Ayesha being they were eighteen and could be tried as adults.

She needed more time to think about this, but Bonnie could hear another squad car approaching. Her time was up. "Y-yes, I promise," she sputtered hastily.

"Then I'll come to collect your debt from you in two weeks."

Bonnie blinked the second she felt the handcuffs fall from her wrists. Rubbing feeling back into her flesh, Bonnie hazard a glance at the officer. Her eyes widened because he was…_fuck he was hot_!

He was blond with a buzz cut and a groomed five o'clock shadow with the longest eyelashes she had ever seen on a guy. They surrounded blue eyes that reminded her of cotton candy, and his lips were the color of pink rose petals. Though he was dressed in uniform it clung to his body like a second skin and she could only imagine with her fifteen year old mind that he was chiseled with muscle on top of muscle.

"You better go," the officer said.

"I don't know…how will you…"

The officer smiled and it made his otherwise cold veneer seem personable as if you could stroll up to him and just start a conversation.

"Go," the officer reiterated and Bonnie didn't waste a second getting lost.

Two weeks later she nervously bit her thumbnail wondering when she'd get a knock on her door. A summons. She had given the officer her name and age, but not her address. Bonnie was positive he could easily gain that information due to the numerous databases he had access to so finding her wouldn't be difficult. But still the waiting in suspense was driving her nuts.

And it did cross her mind to call up the precinct but say what? I was caught stealing and the arresting officer wants me to do something for him in order to keep his silence. Yeah Bonnie saw that going over real well. In addition to the fact she didn't have his name or badge number to report him she was pretty much in a lose-lose situation.

Her friends had done nothing but grill her the very next day as they all convened at Karasaun's house to discuss what went wrong. They wanted to know if Bonnie had flipped on them, cut some sort of plea deal because they were finding it extremely hard to believe that Officer Friendly would just let them _all _go without so much as a citation or warning.

"We should just lay low for a while," Jody, Bonnie's best friend had said. "We barely escaped last time and they know our faces now. We can't take another chance so soon."

"Yeah, but I'd still like to know what Miss Prim and Proper said or did to get that cop to agree to let us go," Chris said snidely and suspiciously. "If I knew you had skills like that maybe I should be pimpin' your ass out instead."

Bonnie smacked that chick all the way from here to the Himalayas, and Chris was a _big_ girl. That was it for her, she was done. She wasn't into petty crime to be insulted. And being caught had scared her straight. She and the girls assembled needed extra cash flow and thought it would be ingenius to go to parties being thrown by the rich kids at their school, and steal whatever may be of value. They always looked for cash, but that wasn't always easy to come by. Smartphones, jewelry, electronic devices, DVD's anything that could fetch a price, they took.

More time passed and Bonnie figured Officer Unknown had forgotten about her and moved on to fry bigger fish.

And just when you let your hair down that's when your past comes back to bite you in the ass.

He had been waiting for her after school but he wasn't dressed in uniform, which startled Bonnie. A pair of Aviator shades covered his eyes but did nothing to diminish his handsomeness. The officer motioned her over with two fingers and Bonnie had no choice but to comply.

Hugging her books to her chest, Bonnie walked over to him as he leaned against a navy blue Chevy Impala. He opened the passenger side door for her.

"I'm not supposed to get in cars with strangers," Bonnie quipped.

The officer smiled. "The name's Brady. Now get in the car."

Bonnie did so and sat with her back up against the door and waited for Officer Brady to climb behind the wheel. He did so and turned to look at her. She couldn't see his eyes behind the dark tint of his shades.

"Seat belt," he said.

Bonnie followed his directions and wondered if he was going to renege and drive her straight to the police station. She wouldn't be able to deny her involvement in anything because she was sure a few of her prints was on some of the stolen merchandise.

"What do you want from me?" Bonnie asked nervously.

"I want to get to know why a pretty girl like yourself would turn to a life of crime. Do you not have a father in your life?"

Bonnie scoffed. "Yes, I'm the product of a broken home. What do you really want?"

Officer Brady took his eyes off the road and unconsciously licked his bottom lip. "I want to teach you a very valuable lesson about playing a very grown up game when you're not mature enough to handle it. But first we're going to get to know each other."

Bonnie said nothing as she studied the way Brady handled his car with expertise as he drove them out of Mystic Falls and into the neighboring county. She was sure he was the one breaking several laws now.

"I have a few rules," Brady stated garnering Bonnie's attention again. "You're to make yourself available to me three days out of the week. When I call you, you answer immediately. I don't like leaving messages. And when we get together you're to wear…a lacy bra and matching thong preferably in black. Every. Single. Time."

Bonnie's eyes popped out of their sockets. "Excuse me?" she asked sharply. "I'm not having sex with you!"

Brady held up a finger. "I didn't say anything about sex. I told you, Bonnie. I want to get to know you."

"I don't see how what type of underwear I wear factors into this. Are you even a cop? I don't recall you flashing your badge the night you busted me."

Brady smirked. "I don't like to be talked back to. I'm the one in a position of authority here, so you do what I say."

"You're blackmailing me," Bonnie mumbled and felt her heart get devoured by the acid in her belly. "If I refuse you'll just turn me into your superiors. You could get in a lot of trouble by doing this," and that was her only trump card.

"I don't like to think of it as blackmailing, Bonnie. You're clearly a girl in need of some guidance, and I'm merely here to help you. Whatever happens between us will be consensual. I won't ever force you to do anything; and like I promised the evidence pointing to your involvement in the Tinley robbery will disappear. Something tells me that wasn't the first time you participated in something like that."

Bonnie could say nothing.

"That's what I thought," Brady placed his hand on her leg. Bonnie jumped. "We're in this together, Bonnie. I want you to trust me."

"There's no honor among thieves and liars," Bonnie said.

"No there's not," Brady agreed.

"Why me?"

"Because you're beautiful."

"Can't you just chuck this up to teenaged stupidity and let me go?"

Brady's only response was to take his hand off her leg and place it back on the steering wheel.

That first night Brady took Bonnie to his apartment and cooked her dinner. He asked her questions to which Bonnie responded with bullshit answers. She was relieved that he didn't demand she suck him off or anything along those lines. Nothing sexual happened and Bonnie hoped things would remain on that course.

And they did for about three weeks. He picked her up every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday without fail, and called her every night at ten o'clock where he'd inquire about her day. For a minute Bonnie almost tricked herself into believing they were in a relationship, but she didn't know anything about Brady other than the fact he was a police officer in Holbein County, that he had little family in the area, and he did two tours in Afghanistan when he served in the Army.

It was Wednesday again and Brady picked her up a block away from her school, but tonight he handed her an eye mask.

"Put that on."

Her lips were already forming the question 'why' but a sharp look from Brady silenced her. Doing as told, Bonnie covered her eyes with the mask.

Brady had helped her out of the car and up the stairs to his apartment.

"Tonight, everything changes," Brady spoke intimately into her ear causing Bonnie to shiver. She remained stoic as Brady undressed her down to her lacy underwear. Bonnie could sense him circling her though he wasn't making a sound. Other than his breathing, it was all that signaled he hadn't left her side.

"Put these on," Brady handed her a pair of six inch heels.

Bonnie fumbled with the shoes but managed to get them on her feet. The alteration in height made her wobble a bit.

"Now get down on your hands and knees."

Bonnie did so not making a sound of complaint at the cold hard floor pressing into the palms of her hands and knees.

Bonnie listened carefully and could hear the whisper of fabric as it vacated flesh, and then Brady was behind her gliding his hands over hers before they took a journey up her arms, over her shoulders, and down her back. When they reached her hips, one hand disappeared and came down on her right butt cheek.

A scream erupted from Bonnie's lips. Brady softened the sting by lightly caressing the skin he struck and kissed it. That instantly got Bonnie's heart beating faster, and it tripled the minute she felt Brady's hard bulge poking her in her ass crack. Warmth spread through her.

Something inside of her was shifting. Her anticipation was growing. Though her experience with boys paled in comparison to those of her friends, Bonnie did want to know what she was missing out on. And from the looks of things she was about to find out.

"Everything changes," Brady said once more and proceeded to show Bonnie just exactly what he meant by that.

* * *

Brady had shaped the way Bonnie viewed men. She never really had problems with guys before. All of her close male friends were more like brothers to her than anything else, but at the end of the day she knew they only cared about one thing. How much ass they could get and how often could they get it. He eviscerated her notion that men could be kind and gentle, that they actually gave a shit about a girl's feelings; that they honestly wanted to make someone happy. Brady and his lust had been unappeasable and depraved, and after being under his tuition, Bonnie found it astounding she even wanted to give men a shot ever again.

Stefan was so different from Brady but still she didn't know everything about him. He could be putting up a front that he was a nice decent guy only to achieve his true goal: to see her face down ass up but only time would really tell.

There were parts of Damon that reminded her too much of Brady that he equally repelled and drew her in. She knew that's why she behaved the way she did towards Damon when they first met. It was almost like living with a constant reminder of the silent heaven and hell she lived through for eight months. That's how long her "situation" with Brady lasted.

Slowly her eyes opened and she took in the muted brightness of Damon's bedroom. It was three times the size of her own room that it wasn't surprising she never really saw him around the estate because essentially everything he needed was right here in his bedroom.

Bonnie stretched as much as she could and that's when she became aware of the fact Damon was still holding her around the waist, and not only that the very prominent male part of him was nudging her ass. She tried not to squirm too much, but she needed to get up and get a start on her day.

Yet she laid there for a moment soaking up his warmth and taking in his scent. No matter the time of day Bonnie learned that Damon smelled awesome, and she had smelled her fair share of funky boys in her short years.

As she shifted until she lied on her back, she noticed that half his face was pressed into the pillow. His mouth was slightly parted open and his bottom lip was puffy from sleep. His black hair was tousled, and there was a light rosy tint to his cheek. And blunt dark hairs protruded from the area surrounding his mouth and jaw. Damon was good-looking, and most guys like him only continued to get hotter the more they aged.

Bonnie's eyes fell to his lips again and she recalled with startling clarity how they felt meshed with her own. A shameful heat flashed through her.

Placing her hand on top of his arm, Bonnie attempted to lift it off so she could sneak out and get back to her room before Grams woke up to do a bed inspection.

Damon grumbled and only tightened his hold on Bonnie. He pulled her closer and then buried his face in the crook between her shoulder and cheek.

"Damon," Bonnie moaned and tried to wiggle free again only to be denied. She gasped when she felt his lips lightly brush against her skin. "Cut that out."

He mumbled something incoherently and then sucked her skin between his teeth. Bonnie braced her hands on his shoulders to push him off her no longer willing to indulge his hallucinatory fantasy. He must have mistaken her for one of his conquests.

"Wake up, Damon," Bonnie said sternly.

Once again his words ran together and then Damon shifted until he had her pinned underneath him, his leg going between hers. He started humping her.

"_Damon_." Bonnie stressed his name with urgency. The more he stroked against her, the more Bonnie had to fight her own body's response to enjoy it.

"Bonnie?"

"Yes, you moron. Get off me."

Damon lifted his head and stared down at her and then at their precarious position. He scrambled off of her. "Sorry," his cheeks reddened profusely.

"I just bet you are," Bonnie responded dryly and pushed him away. She sat up in bed.

Damon adjusted himself in his basketball shorts. His body acted on autopilot when it sensed a warm body lying next to him. He kind of sort of forgot that he and Bonnie had yet another sleepover.

"I really am sorry," Damon apologized once more.

Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Bonnie avoided making eye contact with him. Feeling hot male flesh in contact with hers brought back memories of receiving that kind of treatment on a regular basis.

"How did you sleep?" Damon propped himself up against the headboard.

"Better than expected."

"You know you can sleep with me anytime you want," he grinned.

Bonnie caught on to the double entendre of that comment and said nothing.

Damon decided to change the subject. "Are you missing the parentals yet?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I miss my mom, but that's only because I'm used to seeing her everyday. Does that mean I want her to cut her honeymoon short, no."

"Yeah," Damon agreed. "Giuseppe gives me a lot of freedom, but when he's here he can be such a little dictator. Notorious Napoleon complex."

Bonnie laughed. "I thought that only applied to short people."

Damon looked at her askance. "You trying to tell me something? You're short and you've certainly acted like a little empress since you got here."

"I have not!" Bonnie denied.

"I've basically had to spit shine your shoes just to get you to say my name as if it weren't covered in shit."

"I haven't been that bad."

Damon made a noise of doubt. "How the blind can see," he muttered sarcastically.

"If I've been rude to you it wasn't intentional. It's just…you remind me of someone from my past, and yes even I know it's not fair to hold you to the standards of someone who… wasn't right for me, but it is what it is."

That definitely piqued his interest. Damon wondered if Bonnie had a past. Her age alone wouldn't keep her exempt from drama. He had done enough community service to know that some kids Bonnie's age had already been put through the ringer emotionally, physically, psychologically, and verbally, and the cycle of abuse was as much generational as it was environmental.

His finger traced her chin. "I know there's a story to tell behind those green eyes," he murmured.

Being under his direct gaze froze Bonnie. "My life isn't as interesting as you probably think it is."

"I should be the judge of that," he continued to study her. "Something tells me that there's probably some guy in Virginia who didn't want to let you go, and probably pulled out all the stops to convince you to stay."

"Not even close."

"Nostradamus I might not be, but I can tell when someone is trying to keep up a façade."

"Damon, all I'm trying to do is graduate on time, get into a good college, and make something of myself."

Damon nodded his head as if he believed her. There was too much fire and passion locked away inside of Bonnie just for her to settle with the status quo.

"I don't have an agenda, and my past is pretty un-spectacular," Bonnie continued allowing the lies to pass through her teeth like water. "I should get going. I have a visitor coming and I need to get up and get dressed."

Damon curled his lip and asked snidely, "Is it Stefan?"

"What's your beef with him?"

"I don't have a beef with him per se. It's just hard for me to like anyone with my last name who isn't family. And even that's a bit of a stretch for me since most of my family are inbred idiots, but who's complaining."

"And sometimes all we have in life is family, Damon. You shouldn't be so hard on them. I would literally do anything for my family."

"Then that clearly makes you the better man between us, Bon."

Bonnie scooted to the edge of the bed and stopped. "Were you speaking figuratively about your family being inbred?"

Her question caused Damon to come down with a case of the chuckles. "I'll say this much. I have a pair of uncles, their names aren't important. But the elder fell in love with this woman named Elena, and then the skank got it on with the younger brother. After some time one uncle fathered a son with Elena, while the other fathered a daughter with her. And those kids married one another. Oh, and this happened _years _ago where marrying first and second cousins was all the rage if that helps make this story seem less disgusting."

Bonnie's eyes crossed as she tried to figure this out. It was far too early in the morning to make heads or tails of it. "I'll try to make sense of that later," she intoned and then jumped out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Damon questioned.

"To my room," Bonnie muttered as if she were saying 'duh'.

Damon snapped his fingers and pointed at his bed. "This isn't going to make itself up."

Pursing her lips, Bonnie padded back to the bed and helped Damon make his monstrosity look presentable. When they were done, he approached her, grabbed her lightly by the hips and pecked her lips.

"Have a good day, sweetie."

Bonnie, a little stunned just shook her head. "Bye, geek."

* * *

Bonnie bobbed around on her vanity seat as she listened to "Settle Down" by No Doubt as she applied her makeup. Sitting next to her cell phone was a list of items on a check list that Bonnie needed to cross off and with a quickness.

Her phone vibrated and when she saw who was calling, Bonnie blew out a cloud of hot air before answering.

"How many times have I told you not to call me on this number?" she listened to the irate person on the other end. "They won't be back until Sunday so there's nothing I can do until then. I told you that I would call you as soon as I got something going. It's too early to start asking for demands and handouts." Pause. "Remember if you push this too soon you'll screw everything up. Don't call me again."

Bonnie hung up at the same time her door opened revealing Katherine. Inwardly Bonnie cursed yet kept her face completely impassive. She was sure the troll hadn't heard her conversation.

"What do you want?" Bonnie asked.

"I know what you're doing."

Bonnie merely raised an eyebrow in the air. "And what exactly am I doing?"

Folding her arms over her chest, Katherine smirked. "I've eaten girls like you for breakfast, Bonnie. If you want to stay off the menu I suggest you…"

"Now Katherine is that anyway to talk to family?" a third person entered the conversation.

Both girls turned their attention to the man who basically filled up Bonnie's doorway.

"Uncle Mason," Katherine smiled and then instantly frowned. "What are you doing here?"

He looked at Bonnie who rose from her vanity bench. She discreetly stuffed her list and phone into her messenger bag before shouldering it.

"I'm giving my new niece an interview."

Bonnie walked past Katherine trying to keep the smug smile off her face.

"An interview?" Katherine asked. When Giuseppe threatened her with homelessness if she didn't find a job he told her not to even bother applying to Salvatore Industries, but here was her uncle, the head of security at SI about to give Bonnie an interview. Now how was that fair?

"I'll be down the hall," Mason directed at Bonnie.

Bonnie nodded and then stopped to face her stepsister. "Oh, you were saying something about eating little girls for breakfast? I'm surprised you'd want to risk the carb intake."

Katherine's smile was sanguine. "We can talk about that later. Uncle Mason is waiting."

"And he can continue to wait. You were on the verge of threatening me I believe."

"It wasn't a threat, little sister," the brunette sauntered over to Bonnie and pushed her hair behind her shoulders. "You really are a pretty little thing. Damon is infatuated with you, and I know my brother and how he gets when he's infatuated with something."

_Did this heifer just call me a thing?_ Bonnie wondered and schooled her features to reveal nothing.

"I just wanted to give you some useful advice," Katherine poked Bonnie on her boob. "Like with most toys when a guys is finished playing with it he either leaves it to collect dust, or passes it along to his friends to give them a turn. I hope you catch my meaning."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Katherine," Bonnie patted her shoulder and watched as all civility fled the witch's face. "I do know when a car gets too many miles on it, it gets traded in for a newer model or trashed. So don't you worry your little head about me or Damon. We'll be fine. Have a good day, Kat," Bonnie smiled brightly. "You don't mind if I call you Kat do you?" winking, Bonnie vacated her bedroom.

In life, Bonnie learned someone had to be on top. And she vowed it would be her. Now she was going to go on a little fishing expedition.

Chapter end.

**A/N: When I started writing this chapter, initially the flashback wasn't in it, but I wanted to give a sneak peek into the kind of life Bonnie was living and how she and Brady crossed paths. And yes, he is a dirty, disgusting, sexy older man that should know better. You'll be 'hearing' from his POV shortly. That aside, the person Bonnie was speaking to at the end of this chapter is not the same person she spoke to in the previous chapter just to clarify. And many wanted to know if Abby is in on Bonnie's scheme, and well i I revealed the answer here, what fun would that be? I'm keeping mum on everything. So I guess what remains to be asked and answered is: who exactly is Bonnie playing? Stay tuned and thank you guys for reading! Love you! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I know, I know, I know. I haven't updated since January, my deepest apologies. Enjoy the latest. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

The past had been written, which meant the future was subjective. Bonnie felt her past and her future colliding and she was caught in the middle without any kind of protective gear on. Katherine was determined to circle her like a shark, Damon wanted to eat her—enough said—and all she wanted was to have something salient.

She had done her fair share of dirt in just sixteen short years. She used to be one of the good ones, trustworthy, honest, and obedient, and somewhere along the way Bonnie woke up and she was starring in her own Lifetime movie. Promiscuity, drugs, and alcohol wasn't what made her heart speed, but knowing she could literally pick someone's pocket in a room full of witnesses and have everyone look the other way—that had been her vice.

Those days were over. She was a new person intent on reinventing herself, but first she had a loose end to tie up. All the hard work Bonnie had poured into making sure that Abby and Giuseppe walked down the aisle she would not watch it go up in flames because a blast from her past decided to plop down in California. She was determined not to go backwards, only to move forward.

Bonnie found Mason Lockwood, head of security at Salvatore Industries in the solarium. He turned around at the sound of her cowboy boots tapping on the tile flooring.

Smiling, Bonnie sat down in one of the French provincial chairs. Mason was a very handsome man, but he looked like he belonged in a garage or on a race track, not draped in a button down shirt tailored to fit his broad frame and a pair of gabardine trousers and the latest men's shoes from Armani.

He sat down across from her, revealing that gap between his pearly white teeth. "So what can I do for you, Bonnie?"

"First let me thank you for even taking the time out of your schedule to come and talk to me."

Mason hunched a shoulder. "Don't mention it. I needed to come down here to make a few upgrades so you weren't putting me out of my way."

"Okay, well my birthday is coming up and I wanted some extra security around, but I want things to be low-key, have people around who can blend in. Do you have any recommendations from your team? I'm sure Giuseppe would probably handle this, but he'll be coming back from his honeymoon and the less he has to deal with the better 'cause he will have a lot on his plate with work. So I figured I could handle this small part for my birthday party on my own."

Mason nodded his head. "I have a two-man team…brothers Dean and Sam Winchester. Although Dean is bit of partier himself, he and his brother can be discreet, and they're good with crowd control. And I just brought someone on this morning. He could use a bit more experience before joining Giuseppe's private detail."

Bonnie swallowed and tried to keep the anxiety and interest off her face. "Who?" she was proud her voice didn't crack.

"An old friend from Florida…Brady McIntyre. We went through the police academy together. I trust him with my life."

Doom filled Bonnie's innards. So it was true. He hadn't been lying when she ran into him at that club and he said he had an interview at Salvatore Industries. What did he want? Bonnie didn't know. Well, she did know, but she didn't want to put all of her chips on the cards in her hand. Instead, she focused on the blood in her veins being redirected to her temples where it pounded maddeningly. Keeping her face impassive, Bonnie offered Mason a tremulous smile. As far as she was concerned, this meeting was over.

"Whoever you think is best we'll go with that," Bonnie mumbled. "My birthday is in two weeks so maybe we can set something up and Giuseppe and my mom can meet with them, ask questions, and finalize things," she suggested.

"Hey, whatever you need. I'll run it past the guys and we'll go from there."

"Well, I need to get a move on. I have school. Thanks again, Mason."

The twosome rose from their seats. "No problem. So how are you liking California? You're originally from Virginia, right?"

Bonnie nodded as she and Mason made their way to the front of the massive estate. "I kind of feel like I've stepped into a Hollywood movie set, but it's growing on me."

"Yeah, I felt that way, too," Mason replied ruefully. "Life in Florida can be real laid back so being here it's like everyone and everything is on the grind. But now I love it here." Pause. "I'm sure you've been given the Katherine and Damon talk because they can be…"

Bonnie held up a hand. "I've gotten a first-class education on those two. I'll be all right. I'm sure most people take one look at me and think I don't have any kind of street smarts. That I'm naïve, and gullible, and I can be about something's, but not those two. I'm good."

They had reached the atrium.

"Well all right. I'll catch you later, Bonnie."

Waving, Bonnie and Mason split with him heading off to parts unknown as Bonnie made her way to the kitchen where the alluring scents of a homemade breakfast called her like a siren. Pausing at the door, Bonnie took a deep breath and pushed the information she learned about Brady to the back of her mind. It was time to put up pretenses that everything was right in her small, fish bowl of a world. She entered the kitchen.

Grams manned the stove. She had given their regular chef the morning off. The smell of homemade pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and coffee slapped Bonnie in the face the minute she pushed the swinging door open to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Grams. Ooh, you made pancakes."

"Morning, baby. Not just any ordinary pancakes. These have pecans and walnuts in them."

Bonnie giddily clapped her hands together and hopped on a stool at the center island. She withdrew a tangerine from the fruit basket and dug her fingernail into the skin.

Since Abby and Giuseppe were on a three-week honeymoon, it didn't take much to convince Sheila to stay and look after her granddaughter and Giuseppe's brood. Her run-in with the oldest had been far and in between to which Sheila was thankful. She didn't make it a habit to lay her hands on other people's children, but that Katherine was one rude little bitch.

Yet Sheila had dealt with Katherine's kind before. She was a tenured professor at a small private college. She was used to girls who cloaked themselves in an air of superiority and thought they were doing the world a favor simply by existing. They did all this posturing just to hide how miserable and unhappy they were. And tried to add meaning to their lives by thinking owning a closet full of designer labels and being able to have the best of everything was all they needed to get by. Nope, she wasn't fazed by girls like Katherine at all.

Bonnie was glad that Grams was here but at the same time she was anxious for her grandmother to pack her bags and head back to Virginia. Sheila Bennett was a shrewd woman. Not much could get past her, and Bonnie was hoping and praying that her grandmother wouldn't pick up that something was wrong with her.

Bonnie had to admit she was doing an admirable job in keeping up appearances. Seeing Brady after all this time had shaken her to her core, brought back memories of the life she left behind in Virginia. Seeing him was like being thrown feet first into arctic cold water.

Thankfully she was given a reprieve from her thoughts in the form of Katherine entering the kitchen dressed for work.

Keeping her mint green eyes on the tall brunette, Bonnie figured now was as good a time as any to put the next phase of her plan into motion. With her grandmother here, Sheila could give her endorsement of Katherine moving out leaving Giuseppe no other choice but to send his adoptive daughter packing.

Scrunching up her nose at the smell of artery clogging food, Katherine bypassed the stove and Sheila without muttering a single word. She headed over to the fridge where she pulled out her wheat grass smoothie.

"Good morning, Katherine," Sheila barked amazed by the girl's continued rudeness. It was the rule in her household that you spoke as soon as you saw someone in the morning.

Katherine smirked and poured her lumpy green concoction into a glass. "Sorry, I thought you were the help. Although you do look like you belong in a kitchen."

Bonnie's eyes enlarged as she prepared herself to see yet another showdown.

Twisting the spatula in her hand, Sheila smiled and then gave Katherine a thorough once-over taking in the girl's extremely short skirt and way too tight blouse and the fact she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were shamelessly poking through the fabric to which Katherine only stuck out her chest more, obviously proud of her figure.

"And you look like you belong on a street corner, but even hoes don't bite the hand that feeds them," with that Sheila slapped Bonnie's plate in front of her.

Katherine's nostrils flared. Bonnie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Thanks, Grams," Bonnie muttered and started eating after blessing her food. "Hey, Katherine?" Bonnie tossed out casually.

"What?" the girl in question said through clenched teeth.

"Have you given any thought to getting your own place?" Katherine merely stared at Bonnie like she turned into a terrorist. "I mean, you're eighteen. Don't you want to be on your own, living by your own rules? And you work in LA. Wouldn't it make perfect sense to get an apartment or condo near where you work?"

Katherine smirked. "Trying to get rid of me? Cute. I like living here. This is my home. Besides, without me here things are liable to fall apart."

Bonnie drizzled maple flavored syrup on her pancakes. "If you're worried about Damon and Giuseppe well me and my mom will look after them. Make sure they eat three square meals a day and take their vitamins. You don't want to be forty and still living at home do you? When I turn eighteen I'll be the first thing smokin' out the door. When did you move out Grams?"

"At seventeen but it was a different world then."

Katherine folded her arms over her chest. "Oh, were you kicked out for getting knocked up out of wedlock?" she smirked.

Sheila balled her hands into fists and tempered herself. "No, I got a job and earned enough that I was able to get my own place. Being independent at an early age was nothing unusual for us Bennett women. Perhaps its time to take your lips off Giuseppe's nipple and establish yourself in the real world, Katherine."

"And I'm just supposed to do it because you say so? Whatever. I'm late for work," Katherine slammed her glass on the counter and huffed out of the kitchen nearly colliding into Damon.

"What did I miss?" he asked.

Bonnie shook her head and Sheila merely blinked at him before turning her attention back to the stove.

Taking a seat next to Bonnie, Damon snatched a piece of bacon off her plate.

Bonnie swatted at him. "Get your own bacon, doofus."

"Bonnie, its bad manners to talk with your mouth full," Sheila chastised and placed a plate in front of Damon who leaned over the island to kiss her cheek.

In amazement Bonnie witnessed a blush overtake her grandmother's peach hue.

"You're barking up the wrong tree if you think you can get fresh with me, Damon," it took a lot of effort on Sheila's part not to smile. Damon was a slick one and trouble, but ultimately she pegged him as being harmless. Though she could be wrong.

"Oh, I would never dream of getting fresh with such a goddess," he smiled.

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

Unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap, Damon looked at the spread before him and heard his stomach growl. "Is there anyway I can convince you to move here, Miss Sheila?"

"As beautiful as California is, Virginia is home. You two eat up. You have to be out of here to catch the ferry."

"Yes, ma'am," Damon winked and shoveled food in his mouth.

Coming around the island, Sheila kissed Bonnie on the forehead. "Have a good day at school, baby."

"I will. What are you doing today?"

"I haven't figured it out yet. I have something's I need to get caught up on for work, but other than that…" Sheila shrugged.

Damon leaned back in his seat to make eye contact with the matriarch of the Bennett family. "Well you know George is here at your disposal if you want to get out of the house. Or you can take any of the cars and tour the island. You don't have to stay cooped up here."

"I know that, but I haven't exactly finished touring this house. Seriously, does Giuseppe not believe in less being more?" Sheila teased and left the kitchen.

Damon bumped Bonnie's shoulder. "Did you tell your grandmother where you laid your head last night?"

"If I did, you my friend, would be waking up in a hospital."

Damon laughed and finished his food.

Fifteen minutes later he and were Bonnie were seated in his car as he drove them to school.

Periodically Damon would take his eyes off the road to admire Bonnie's legs. Several times he had to physically keep his hands on the steering wheel or stick shift so he wouldn't reach over and place his hand on her knee. Things between them had improved since the wedding, and last night. Damon could say whatever traipsed into his head and Bonnie would more than likely ignore it, but now she'd offer up a tiny little smile.

He still wasn't where he longed to be. There was plenty of time to sheath his sword in her pouch but patience wasn't one of his strongest virtues.

"You okay, Bennett?" he shattered the silence. "You look like you have a lot on the brain."

"That's kind of my problem, Damon. I always have too much on my brain."

"Then share with the class," he coaxed.

Bonnie was tempted as she bit into her bottom lip, but she shook her head glad her sunglasses were concealing her eyes. She looked over the console and wasn't the least bit surprised to find Damon leering at her.

"Maybe later," Bonnie sidestepped the issue with finesse. "I'm excited for the field trip to the art museum. Are you?"

"No," Damon deadpanned. "Well, we're here," he announced unnecessarily as he pulled into his usual spot at Manchester Prep.

Climbing out of the car and pulling down her skirt, Bonnie shouldered her messenger bag and then hugged Damon which caught him off guard. He smiled feeling bemused before slipping his shades on and heading in the opposite direction.

* * *

Sitting in the hall waiting for the first bell to ring, Bonnie dug around in her bag looking for her compact mirror and lip gloss.

"Alexandria is salty with good reason. He pretended to like her in order to sleep with her," Lexi filled in the group on the latest round of gossip. For someone who held such contempt for her high school counterparts she certainly had the deets on everyone, Bonnie thought as she fingered her curls.

On the sly she checked both ends of the hallway wondering if she might get the chance to see Stefan. Bonnie had been neglecting him since Damon's pool party and she felt bad about that. Especially knowing her lips hadn't been doing a very good job in staying away from Damon, although in her defense he had been the one to initiate those kisses.

Clearing her throat, she tried to jump back into the roundtable discussion that was currently being held on the newest unlucky-in-love contestant in this game called high school.

"Are you really all that surprised?" Meredith queried. "We go to school with a bunch of fake, wannabe Hugh Hefner's and Larry Flynt's. Alexandria should have known better because it's the oldest trick in the book."

Dulling out their conversation again, Bonnie spotted the person she wanted to see. A broad smile broke over her face as she got to her feet, pulling her skirt down as she kept her eyes locked on the guy who was heading towards her.

Stefan appeared to be walking in slow motion towards Bonnie or maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her. There was just something about his walk that had swag written all over it, and it wasn't something he was doing exaggeratedly, it just came naturally to him.

Stepping beyond her retinue of friends, smile still stuck to her face, Bonnie was practically bouncing in her shoes.

"Hey," Stefan greeted her aiming right for her lips.

"Hey," Bonnie said a second before the rest of her greeting was cut off by Stefan's plundering her mouth. Their first public kiss. It had to have the right amount of heat yet coyness.

When Stefan gently bit on her bottom lip, Bonnie disengaged her mouth and allowed his tongue entry where his circled hers slowly, methodically. He cupped her face, holding her complacent as he drank his fill.

Someone cleared their throat hoping to bust up their interlude. Feeling blood fan out to all her extremities and figuring she and Stefan gave onlookers enough of a show, Bonnie pulled away and wiped traces of lip gloss from Stefan's pale pink lips.

"And the MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss goes to…"

"Shut up, Lexi," Bonnie glared good-naturedly at her friend.

Holding up her hands, Lexi got to her feet. "Well I'm going to head off to the bathroom and touch myself while I think about that kiss. What's up, Stefan?"

"Hey, Lexi. Meredith. Sarah. Vanessa."

A chorus of "Hey, Stefan" went through the air as the other girls gathered their things to follow suit. They pretty knew the routine by now. Stefan would appear literally out of thin air and Bonnie would blow them off and follow Stefan around with her nose wide open.

"I'll see you girls later," Bonnie said.

She was met with "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"I don't have practice today," Stefan tugged one of her curls. "But I do have a team meeting. So I was wondering if I could take you to dinner if you don't mind waiting around a little bit after school?"

"I'd love to go dinner with you," Bonnie answered and kissed Stefan again. "I just have to tell Damon to not wait for me."

"All right. The meeting should be over in about thirty minutes no longer than an hour."

"I'll find some way to occupy myself."

"Cool," Stefan captured her lips at the same time he caught Damon and his band of losers headed down the hall in his peripheral vision. He made sure his tongue was visible before sliding it deep into Bonnie's mouth who moaned a bit awkwardly as she was caught off by the intrusion. When he continuously took her mouth like a man finding an oasis in a desert, he rested his hand on the cusp of her ass not really grabbing it in his large palm, but settled it low enough on her hip that it sent a pretty clear message.

"What was that for?" Bonnie asked after ending the kiss.

"You'll be off on a field trip all day so I won't have the chance to walk you to class like I usually do. Indulge me. I feel myself missing you already."

Feeling her heart melt just a little, Bonnie smiled at Stefan showing all of her teeth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. And that's when she caught sight of Damon leaning against a set of lockers. He wasn't glaring at her. In fact, he looked amused.

So that was Stefan's motivation for being a bit more possessive and territorial.

The bell rung and the both of them groaned but nevertheless made their way to class. Bonnie took Stefan's arm and briefly glanced at Damon as they walked past him. He stood with his left leg bent, foot resting against the lockers, the right extended, draped in black jeans, and a black Polo shirt with the Manchester Prep logo emblazoned over his left pectoral. He was a sight that was for sure.

"You don't have to do that," she said lowly shifting her attention back to Stefan.

"Do what?" Stefan inquired and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Maul me as a way of telling Damon to keep away."

Bluish-green eyes stared down at Bonnie. "Is that what you think I was doing?"

"You tell me, Stefan. I like _you_. I like spending time with you and I like kissing you, and you don't have anything to prove to anyone."

Stefan nodded his head. "I understand but I've…you know what never mind. You two are siblings by marriage and I don't want to make anything weird. Plus you're right. I don't have anything to prove."

Curiosity couldn't help but find its place within Bonnie as she wondered what Stefan was about to say but decided to censor himself, withhold whatever it was he was about to share. If he had been hoping to enlighten her about Damon's less than sisterly thoughts towards her then he would have been wasting his time. Bonnie was well aware of Damon's slightly incestuous attraction toward her. Hell, he never passed up the opportunity to leer, ogle, brush up against, kiss, or make some form of contact with her that would be deemed inappropriate. Admittedly, in the beginning it did weird her out, but as Bonnie compared that to her past, in all honesty it was minor league compared to what went down between herself and one former police officer.

Bonnie stiffened. She didn't want to think about Brady. Plenty of times she thought about turning him in to his superiors—anonymously—that he was a child molester. There couldn't have been a statute of limitations when it came to that, yet at the end of the day Bonnie didn't want deal with the backlash. She hadn't been a completely innocent victim. Hell, he busted her for stealing so who would believe that this decorated cop would abuse his power and coerce her into having sex?

Shame out of nowhere slammed into her causing Bonnie to let go of Stefan's arm. He peered at her curiously and saw the pensive look on her face.

"Bon? You okay?"

Startled, Bonnie found Stefan looking at her worriedly. "Yeah, just thinking about a homework assignment," she lied.

Looking over her shoulder, Bonnie caught sight of Damon. He was now walking down the hall, arm slung over the shoulders of that Russian girl she met on her first day of school who practically gave him a tonsillectomy. Their eyes met and he lifted an eyebrow.

Turning away, Bonnie looped her arm with Stefan's again. She'd talk to Damon. Maybe later. Maybe never.

* * *

**The J. Paul Getty Museum-Los Angeles, CA**

They had been assembled, constructed into four groups composed of juniors and seniors to marvel at _The Last Days of Pompeii _exhibit. Damon stared at a painting with his head tilted to the side as he admired the use of paints and acrylics the artist used as well as the brushstrokes. He didn't want his friends to know that he had an appreciation for art that went beyond staring at airbrushed images of nude Playboy models. There were days he could be very old school and old fashioned where he preferred the crooning voice of Frank Sinatra over Awolnation, and where he liked watching black and white movies rather than laughing hilariously at _The Hangover_.

He covertly looked around to see what the rest of his classmates were up to when his eyes landed on one of the docents—a museum volunteer. Damon quickly sized her up. She was probably in her early to mid-twenties, a college student trying to make ends meet, and who might be trying to pursue the acting or modeling business but detested the idea of waitressing for a living. She might attend UCLA or maybe a junior college as her style of dress suggested she was on a tight budget, yet it didn't detract from her face. She might have even done some modeling before striking out in Los Angeles, but hadn't been able to land a lucrative modeling contract with one of the top agencies.

Her cheeks were reddening the longer he pursued her assets, and sometimes she diverted her attention before bringing her olive green eyes back to him. Damon never offered her a smile that he was pleased or the least bit interested in what he was seeing. When he was done estimating the size of her bra cup, he returned his attention back to the painting.

It wasn't difficult to say that he could nail her by the end of the week. He could casually stroll over to her ask her a couple of questions about the exhibit only to test her preparedness. He wasn't really interested in trying to outsmart her anything, and the size of a woman's intellect never really made any kind of impression on him. If she had the ability to walk without tripping and had the most basic communication skills then she met all of his qualifications.

He spared her another quick glance to which she turned her head away, not wanting to be caught optically screwing a minor. Damon graced her with a boyish grin.

There was a low murmur of voices in the museum. Art had a way of making people reflect on what they were seeing, using the least amount of words necessary to convey whatever sculpture or portrait or photograph was speaking to them.

Damon remembered that his mom used to drag him to art shows when he was young. Back then he thought it was some type of punishment for getting on her nerves all week. He was too young to understand that artists usually poured their heart and soul into their work, and that he should have felt privileged to see a glimpse into someone's imagination. It wasn't until he was in middle school that he began to enjoy walking from exhibit to exhibit making up tragic or funny stories as he went.

All of his friends had been exposed to the same kind of culture as him, but Damon knew he was the only one who really appreciated it, really got the message and intent of an artist. It was a piece of himself he had no one to share it with.

Damon looked around once more and his eyes landed on the back of the biggest piece of art he hadn't been able to deconstruct. She was without her perpetual shadow, so picking up his feet, Damon sauntered over to Bonnie and stood beside her.

She was staring at an oil painting on wood paneling tilted _Glaucus and Nydia_.

Bonnie didn't turn to acknowledge the person who stood next to her. She didn't have to. Instead she kept her eyes glued to the painting in front of her and thought what would it have been like to live back in those times, wearing togas, and wreaths of flowers on her head.

"You really like this stuff don't you?" Damon asked when the silence between them became stifling.

"It's not incredibly horrible," she replied on a sigh. "Something tells me you like art as well, Mr. Salvatore. You were at that painting for a good five minutes before coming over here to bug me."

Damon smiled. "You've been stalking me. I guess that's a step in the right direction."

Bonnie's eyes flashed up at him in warning. "Let's not go there, shall we."

"Hmm, so no Stefan," Damon looked around just to make sure the little asshole hadn't found some clever way to talk himself on this trip.

"No."

"What does this painting say to you, Bonnie?"

The girl in question shrugged. "They say a picture can say a thousand words, but all I get from this is a deep adoration and respect between the two. What about you?"

"It says that hate is merely the beginning of a love story," he wiggled his brows.

"Let's break for lunch, guys," announced one of the teachers chaperoning the trip.

Damon held out his arm toward Bonnie. "My treat," he offered.

They were seated outside at a small table enjoying the warm sun and chicken tacos when Bonnie wiped her fingers clean and stared at her stepbrother. There was something nagging at her that she tried to ignore but for whatever reason it became a persistent bugger that refused to be dropped.

"Damon?" Bonnie called for his attention.

"Yeah."

"What was the first thing you thought when you saw me?"

"Why do I get the impression I'm walking into a trap," the blue-eyed troublemaker licked chipotle sauce from his fingers.

"You're not."

Damon took a moment before answering. He wanted to give off the impression he was in deep thought. "The first thing I thought when I saw you was: _gotdamn_ she's hot."

Bonnie snorted good-naturedly. "I kind of figured it would be something along those lines. Was that it?"

"Do you really want me to go there?" his voice lowered an octave and Bonnie felt him press his knee against her thigh.

A corner of her eye narrowed. "I wasn't honest with you when you asked if I was virgin."

"Well if my memory serves me right you never actually answered the question to begin with," Damon leered sinisterly and licked his lips. "So are you?"

A beat passed before Bonnie uttered, "No, I'm not."

"See! Was that so hard?" Damon boasted definitely interested in this turn in conversation.

"No it wasn't hard but it's not something I like talking about."

"Why not? I love talking about sex. I can talk about sex in my sleep while having a sex dream."

Bonnie laughed. "Sounds like sex pretty much consumes your life, Damon."

"Not really. But I enjoy it. It's a great tension reliever."

Someone else had said the exact same thing to Bonnie. "Well do you think people can engage in a purely sexual relationship and actually develop feelings for one another?"

Damon scratched the bottom of his chin. "Perhaps. Speaking from experience half of the girls I've banged claimed to be desperately in love with me after I bust one. It's different for guys. I've gone into situations with one goal in mind, and once that little latex prophylactic is full, that's it. There might be some warm fuzzies for the collaborative effort afterwards, but other than that…if there was nothing there to begin with there will be nothing there once it's over."

Bonnie winced. "You make it sound so clinical."

Damon laughed dryly. "It's anything but clinical. Is this your roundabout way of saying that you fell in love with the guy who shoplifted your V-card?"

"No," Bonnie shook her head yet thought how apropos. "There was nothing there," she admitted. "I didn't even like him."

"So what? You just wanted to get the whole experience out of the way?"

Bonnie hunched a shoulder. "It wasn't as cut and dry as that."

"Anything involving sex and feelings usually never is," Damon countered.

"I think…no I _know _my first has feelings for me, but he's so wrong."

"He wants another shot?"

"I'm not sure"

"Well it would be kind of hard considering you're out here in California and he's back in Virginia." Damon paused and arched an eyebrow. "He _is_ still in Virginia, right?"

Bonnie nibbled a corner of her lip. "As far as I know," she lied.

Damon didn't believe that naturally. He learned that Bonnie wasn't a person who engaged in idle chit-chat to pass the time. There was always a purpose or reason for all of her conversations. And he was also learning she only bit down on her lip when there was an issue she wanted to skirt around, or if she was feeling uncomfortable. Now he could tact on it was something she did when she lied.

"Keep telling yourself that until you believe it."

Sometimes Bonnie could really forget Damon was more than a pretty face and nice body. He was intuitive which meant more floated through his mind than his next hook up and booty call.

"I have a question for you," he settled his elbows on the table and made a steeple of his fingers. "Why all the questions about sex? You planning on giving your goodies away to Stefan?"

"If I were it's none of your business."

Damon shrugged and pulled a face. "It's not but you don't exactly strike me as the type of girl to give it up only after a handful of dates."

Bonnie stared down at the takeout tray. "I'm not an angel. There's no halo over my head," she refocused her eyes on Damon who not once looked away from her. "Have you ever done anything you're not proud of?"

That question elicited a snort from the handsome teen. "I do at least one thing I'm not proud of every week. I sucked this girl's tits so she could write up my physics paper. She wasn't very cute."

Bonnie couldn't help it. She burst out into laughter earning a smirk from Damon. "You are very depraved, Mr. Salvatore, and shallow."

Leaning back in his chair, Damon had to nod his head. "I don't consider it such a chore if the girl is beyond sexy. Stunning. Breathtaking," he did that thing with his eyes as if he were removing her articles of clothing.

Bonnie took a sip of her coke. "Lucky for you Manchester is filled with those types of girls."

Damon shook his head. "They've all been manufactured off an assembly line called rhinoplasty, breast augmentation, and liposuction. Finding natural beauty in California is like trying to find Noah's Arc. You know it's out there somewhere, but it's elusive. But its not girls born and raised in California…but girls from Virginia who turn me on."

Gulping thickly, Bonnie took a big slurp from her soda and avoided Damon's eyes.

Sliding to the edge of his seat, Damon leaned closer to Bonnie to where he could smell nothing but the fragrance of her perfume and could make out the freckles decorating her cheeks. Her pupils dilated.

"Did you know this museum has an underground archive where they house some of their most rare paintings that would otherwise be damaged if they were hung in the general gallery?"

Mutely Bonnie shook her head.

"Finish your lunch and I'll take you there. Normally you'd have to make a reservation to see those paintings, but since my dad is a very generous donator to his museum it shouldn't be a problem for us to get in."

"Money does have a way of opening doors in this town," Bonnie remarked.

"Sure does."

* * *

Repeatedly Bonnie looked over her shoulder thinking at any second they were going to get caught and arrested. Though what they were doing wasn't exactly illegal, there was an element of danger attached to what they were doing considering they were on a school trip and should be with their respective classes.

Following behind Damon as he led the way, he stopped, pounded on a door and waited. He faced her and winked. Several seconds later, the door opened and a slightly emaciated looking older man with grizzled cheeks covered with snow-white hair and bifocals that enlarged his eyes to extraterrestrial proportion frowned at Damon.

"Oscar, it's me Damon Salvatore. Me and a friend were wondering if we could take a private tour of the archives."

The older man adjusted his thick glasses and looked Damon up and down before swinging his gaze over to Bonnie. He grinned at her and licked his dry lips like a lizard. Inwardly Bonnie grimaced yet presented her most beguiling smile.

"You said you're Damon Salvatore?" the elderly man asked.

"Yes, _papino_," Damon replied.

"You don't look like Damon," Oscar refuted adjusting his glasses again.

Sighing heavily, Damon whispered something to the older man who nodded and then in a boisterous voice said, "Damon! My boy! Please come, come."

Beaming, Damon took Bonnie by the hand and pulled her inside. The heavy gray door slammed shut causing Bonnie to jump. The lighting was poor, terrible that she could barely see, but it was pleasantly warm inside the cavernous room.

The air was stale and smelled of must, age, and paint. Bonnie listened as Oscar and Damon spoke to one another in Italian. She couldn't make heads or tails of what was being spoken so she kept mum, her eyes going to the high tech safes that lined the walls.

The archives opened up into a dome-shape room that housed stack after stack of glass encased book shelves filled with rare works of art.

Eyes moving heavenward, goose flesh broke out over Bonnie's skin. "Wow," she said and headed over to a stack and saw watercolor landscapes, portraits, and various other scenes from iconic books, films, and plays immortalized on canvases.

So caught up in what she was seeing, Bonnie didn't notice that Damon was standing right behind her until she felt his hand on her hip. She glanced up at him over her shoulder while his eyes were fixed on a painting.

To her surprise a familiar warmth spread through her and for the first time in a long time she felt safe.

"The artwork in this room alone roughly totals to a quarter of a billion dollars," he spoke in a dulcet tone.

Bonnie's eyes enlarged. Useful information that wouldn't really help her in the long run.

Things were quiet for a while. Damon squeezed her hip intermittedly, and Bonnie did her level best not to have any kind of reaction.

They moved to another stack. With his advantage in height giving him an aerial view of Bonnie from the crown of her head to her feet, she really was doll-sized. But that wasn't exactly what was so fascinating to him. It was the fact she seemed perfectly at ease with his hand on her hip. If this had been a few weeks ago she would have maimed him, and Damon was curious to know what exactly changed. For her. He was still the same. Bonnie had seemingly undergone a personality change where all it took was one little ceremony joining his family with hers to bring her out of her shell.

He decided now was the time to put her on the spot though it might serve in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. Keeping quiet, however, was not something he excelled at.

"You haven't told me to stop touching you."

Bonnie shifted until she could make eye contact with Damon. She had her rebuttal formed on the tip of her tongue, but for a second she got lost in his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into those silver-blue orbs, Bonnie could never get over their brightness nor the clarity of their color. Things weren't helped any that he also had the face of a demi-god to go with the eyes, and though he might be family, he was still a guy, she was still a girl, and she still found herself unintentionally attracted to him. But she would not be crossing any lines with Damon. Bonnie had had her fill of controversial love interests and she was done.

Damon misinterpreted her silence as something else. He cleared what space separated them with one goal in mind. All afternoon she had been receptive to him, and he had succeeded in breaking down another barrier between them since she had been the one to initiate a conversation about sex. So therefore that only left one thing for him to do. To make this outing perfect.

Kiss her.

The second she felt Damon's breath fan against her top lip, Bonnie pulled away and put three feet of space between them.

"We can't do this, Damon. I'm sorry if I led you on or something. We can't go there."

He advanced on Bonnie like a lion on the prowl leaving the young girl no choice but to take tentative steps backwards.

"There's something between us," he said. "You let me kiss you before and didn't make a big deal about it. And you want to know what that tells me? You liked it. You enjoyed it. Otherwise you would have told your mom or your grandmother who would have told my dad, who would have chewed me out. I haven't gotten any reprimanding phone calls or emails from Giuseppe. And I doubt very seriously you're keeping quiet so I won't get in trouble."

"I'm with Stefan," Bonnie rebutted weakly. In all honesty, this was her first time thinking about Stefan since seeing him at school that morning.

Damon snorted. "I don't care." Less than six inches separated their bodies. Damon slid his fingertips from her temple down to her chin. "Does _Stefan _know that you slept in _my _bed last night?"

Her ears were burning. "That's all we did was sleep. All you feel for me is chemical," Bonnie went on to argue. "You said it yourself. If there are no feelings before you smash a girl they won't be there once you nut. I'm not doing this incestuous whatever, Damon."

Time to switch tactics. "How do I make you feel?" the dark-haired Salvatore asked.

Bonnie shook her head since it was more than obvious Damon had completely ignored and disregarded everything she just said.

"Damon," she whined.

"Just answer the question, Bonnie."

Looking away and sighing heavily, Bonnie wet her bottom lip. "You…you keep me entertained," she flashed her mint green eyes up at him. "You're fun to be around. And I feel safe with you. But that's it."

He blinked. He hadn't really expected Bonnie to say that being around him made her feel safe. He'd concentrate on that later. "Really?" he questioned skeptically. "I don't make your heart speed? I don't make you think things you know you shouldn't be thinking about me? I don't make you the least bit…moist?"

Unflinchingly, Bonnie did break gazes with Damon. "No," she said and then spun in her shoes and walked away.

Damon remained where he was and took a deep breath. He didn't jolt when the heavy door to the archives slammed shut. Instead, he redirected his azure orbs to Oscar who came out of hiding and held up a thumb.

Damon shook his head.

* * *

Later that night, lying in bed on his back, Damon's Mont Blanc pen flew over the pages in his rarely used journal. Being around Bonnie in the catacombs of that museum had done more than aroused his carnality, but it aroused a phantom emotion in him that he hadn't felt since he was ten years old and he would stand outside of his parent's bedroom and listen to them argue. Several times he had warred with himself on bursting through the doors demanding his father to stop yelling at his mom because every time he did Margie would be left in tears.

If there was one thing Damon couldn't stand was to see his mom crying or in pain. For a while he did hate his father, but he still loved him fiercely, and he couldn't really grasp that there were issues his little ten year old mind wouldn't be able to solve and make better so the arguments and fighting could stop. He hadn't felt so helpless in his life. All he wanted to do was shield and protect his mom.

But the feeling of shielding and protecting anyone had been noticeably absent since the ink dried on his parent's divorce papers. Now it was back or there was an inkling of it returning in regards to Bonnie. Damon couldn't put his finger on what that girl was doing to him. He wanted to see her naked and if he got really lucky he'd like to fuck her. And that's all it should have been. But he didn't like her relationship with Stefan. It bothered him not because he had some rivalry with the nerd, but when he saw them together Bonnie looked happy and at ease. With him, her guard was always up, and yes it was lowering, but it obviously wasn't where Damon wanted it to be.

He should do the smart thing and just drop whatever it was he was trying to achieve with Bonnie. She was never going to go there with him, and he did enjoy her company. If he wanted to be honest, she was one of a very small number of females he liked spending time with that didn't consist of him trying to hit.

They were family. He should try to see her more of a blood related sister and not one through marriage. However, there was something within him rebelling against doing that as well.

He liked her. There, Damon thought. He could man-up and confess that he genuinely liked Bonnie like a guy would generally like a girl he wanted to be his girlfriend.

He stopped his feverish writing. His entire situation was fucked up.

Damon leaned up a little when his bedroom door opened. To his chagrin it was Katherine and not Bonnie. He went back to his writing ignoring Katherine as she slithered her way to his great bed where she climbed aboard and then straddled him.

"Writing in your journal," her raspy voice broke the silence. "Could you be more queer?"

"Could you be more desperate to read it? What do you want, Broom Hilda?"

"Just checking up on my favorite brother. You're brooding and you never brood. So who's the bitch that's giving you trouble? I'll straighten her out."

Damon shook his head. "Everything's fine, Kat. You can keep your cutthroat razor packed away."

Katherine frowned a bit as she realized that Damon hadn't looked at her once since entering his bedroom. Stretching out beside him, she kept her leg thrown across his torso but then on the sly lowered it right until she felt the tip of his penis.

Damon grabbed her thigh and then tossed her off him. "I'm busy, Kat so if you don't have anything important to share with me—leave."

Miffed he would throw her out, Katherine leaned up on her elbows and gawked at Damon in disbelief.

"It's that little sixteen year old bitch, isn't it?"

"Out, Katherine!"

"Bonnie is up to something. She wants me gone and she was talking to Uncle Mason earlier today. I don't trust her."

"So," Damon groused. "You don't trust anyone. Bonnie isn't a problem so stop trying to start shit because you're bored. Go snort a line of coke or call up one of your sugar daddies and blow your way to upgrading your Mercedes."

Katherine's nostrils flared. She was used to Damon's surly attitude and most of the time it tickled her, but tonight it irritated the fuck out of her. Little by little she felt him slipping through her fingers. She was losing her brother and she couldn't afford that loss.

"You used to be so sweet," Katherine said and made her way off the bed. "You're already pussy whipped and you haven't even tapped it."

Damon dropped his journal and watched as Katherine made her way to the door. He stopped her when her hand was on the knob. "Kat?"

The brunette halted and looked at him.

"When I do it'll be the sweetest pussy this side of the Mississippi. Good night, _sister_."

"Brother," Katherine replied just as snidely.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Just to address what developed in the prior chapter. I'm sure I've thrown a few for a loop with Bonnie's relationship with Brady. If I offended anyone by making it appear that I was trying to romanticize a relationship between a 16 year old girl and a twentysomething man, that wasn't my intent, and I apologize for that. Though this is a story about inappropriate relationships I won't ever describe in full detail what transpired between them because that subject matter makes me uncomfortable. I write stories for a much older audience but since you can't patrol who reads these stories, I definitely don't want to advocate any young girl getting involved with an older man. That's not the point I'm trying to make in writing this. But Bonnie's involvement with Brady is a crucial part of my storyline to explain why she is the way she is and how this has damaged her psychologically as well as emotionally. If you're cool with that, I'll proceed. If not, you know what you can do.**

**And something else has come to my attention. If you follow any of my other stories you know I always implore that you leave your feedback. Well, feedback has seemed to drop dramatically and it's not just with my stories but has happened to other authors as well. You guys, if you understand the writing process and how frustrating it can be especially when you want to write but you can't get past that block in your head, then you would know that we EXTREMELY value reviews when we finally do get that burst of a muse and update. **

**So please, if you're still reading this story, or any of my stories please share your thoughts. It only takes a second of your time to say what you liked, what stood out, ask questions, make guesses, or even say what you didn't like (in a respectful manner) because we appreciate it. It helps us. And I look at the number of reviews as advertising. If someone is looking for a good story to read, if they're like me, they look at the number of reviews a story has generated. I've come across my share of really good stories that have a small number of reviews, so please do your part and help shine the light on fellow authors and their work. Thank you so much in advance, and sorry for the long A/N. Until next time, love you!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: My intent was to update this sooner, but after watching the finale of TVD it killed my inspiration and muse, but she's slowly coming back. There is tons of drama ahead, and though I'm not exactly pleased with this, I hope you guys will be. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

It was the end of another tedious school week, and Bonnie had just been granted her freedom. Walking with her entourage of friends it was amazing how quickly she climbed the social ladder at Manchester Prep now that she was apart of the Salvatore family—brand she should say. Girls from every grade level would stop her in the hall and ask her this and that, and every single day she was lampooned with dozens of friend requests on Facebook. Yet Bonnie took it all in stride, staying close to the people she met during her first week in her new school because not everyone could be trusted.

She waved goodbye to her friends and then headed out to the parking lot to wait for Stefan. Damon had told Bonnie earlier that he would be busy after school with his libertine friends, which meant she had to find another way home. She didn't mind.

Her cell ringed and Bonnie breathed out a sigh. Hopefully it was Stefan calling and telling her he was on his way to meet her.

She frowned because she didn't recognize the number but noticed it was coming from a California area code.

"Hello?" Bonnie answered tentatively.

"Hello, Bonnie."

She immediately hung up. Eyes darting to and fro. How the hell did he get my number? Bonnie screamed internally. The phone rang once more and she just stared willing it to stop. Eventually it did and then about a minute later the beep went off alerting her that she had a voice mail message.

Swallowing thickly, heart pounding, Bonnie went through the prompts and then listened to Brady's message.

"_It's very rude to hang up on someone, but I understand. You weren't expecting to hear from me so I'll let that go for now. I'm just calling to check up on you, Bonnie. That's all. I hope you had a good day at school, and let me say that uniform you're wearing…it looks great on you. I'll speak with you later."_

The blood in Bonnie's body froze; her hands began to shake as she frantically began to look around. Brady was here! He was nearby and watching her! Oh shit!

Standing outside made her feel exposed so Bonnie quickly made her way back inside and then into an empty classroom where she hurriedly called Stefan.

He answered on the third ring. "Hey, I was just about to call you. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Bonnie licked her suddenly dry lips. "I'm in room," she walked back out into the hall to read the room number on the door. "I'm in room one-nineteen."

"Okay, I'll be there in a second. Did you want to hang out at my house for a little while or did you need to get home?"

"Home," Bonnie replied, "I need to go home," where her grandmother was and where she'd feel somewhat safe.

"All right," Stefan muttered. Bonnie could hear the disappointment in his voice. "I'm coming up on the room now."

Bonnie stepped out into the hall and then ended the phone call once her eyes landed on Stefan. She offered him up a smile and easily walked into his outstretched arms, hugging him. Her eyes closed and then opened again, and when they did she saw Brady talking to one of the office secretaries. Bonnie gasped sharply but quietly and got a righteous kick to her heart.

"Let's go," Bonnie nearly dragged Stefan behind her as they left the school, and all but sprinted to the parking lot.

* * *

**Hours later…**

Skinny brown fingers flipped another page, the words going in and out of focus. Bonnie knew she should have only limited herself to one pilfered glass of Giuseppe's scotch, but the minute the room temperature liquid hit the back of her throat and warmed her insides, she wanted another. Three glasses later, the tension from earlier today dissolved, and she couldn't recall the way her heart pounded at seeing Brady McIntyre, former state trooper standing in the middle of the hallway at Manchester Prep.

She sighed and shook her head hoping to dislodge the bile that threatened to rise each time she spared her abuser a single thought. If she hadn't been a juvenile criminal, was three years older, then Bonnie certainly would have coquetted around Brady to gain his attention. He said he liked her, but what he liked was the tunnel of muscles that became slippery when aroused and that was all he was ever going to care about. Believe her, if Bonnie could detach her pussy and throw it at him, she'd do it if it meant she'd never have to lay eyes on him again.

As such, Bonnie saved his voice mail with the full intent to use it to file a harassment suit against Brady if he made calling her, and showing up at her school a regular thing. What the hell was he doing there anyways?

Drawing her tongue over her bottom lip, Bonnie continued to read the black letters on the page hoping something would stick in her slightly inebriated mind. The young teen didn't think she was drunk. The room wasn't spinning around her. If she started speaking, Bonnie was positive her words wouldn't slur together. And if she needed to walk in a straight line, she was certain she could do so without stumbling and falling over.

The urge to laugh for no damn reason wasn't present either. Bonnie was mellow. Calm. Relaxed. Her muscles were probably no more substantial than Jell-O right about now.

The door to the room she was studying in opened and in walked her sweaty stepbrother. Damon looked notably surprised to see her. Bonnie could fit all the times she had been a visitor in Damon's lair on one hand, three fingers if she wanted to be technical about it so her being here while he had been nowhere to be found spoke volumes.

Damon walked up the short flight of steps and then crossed over to his bed. "What are you doing here?"

"Studying," Bonnie answered and attempted to lift her huge biochemistry book only it must have been nailed to the bed. She couldn't budge it.

A dark eyebrow rose in speculation. Damon dropped his gym bag not understanding why she was studying on a Friday night, but that wasn't really important.

"What's wrong with your room?" he asked.

"There's too much pink. It was making my stomach hurt."

Well, Damon could say no one had ever used that excuse as a reason for crashing in his sanctuary. After working out for three hours, tightening up on his boxing skills preparing for the mixed martial arts tournament that was being thrown at Tyler's house this Saturday, all he wanted was a cold shower, food, maybe a blunt, and he was always in the mood for some ass. In fact, Damon had one of the fitness instructors on standby now that he remembered. He was flirting with being completely depleted and didn't think he had enough energy to conjure an erection so he told Mila to hold that thought, and he'd call her to set up a time and place in the future for them to hook up.

With Bonnie here Mila was slowly fading away in the background. As he kept his lapis eyes on Bonnie he noticed that her pupils were dilated. He took a cursory sniff of the air and didn't detect a hint of Mary Jane; besides he didn't think she'd blaze one considering her grandmother was around. So that left only one option to explain Bonnie's lax state…she had gotten into the liquor supply.

Before he could help it he was grinning and then crossed his arms over his chest, reached for the hem of his sweaty Under Armor shirt and peeled it off.

Bonnie gulped thickly the second Damon's chiseled torso came into view. Her cheeks were quickly over saturated with blood, and she commanded her eyes to look away, but instead she continued to ogle him unabashedly.

"D-Did you just finish working out?" Bonnie squeaked.

"Yep," Damon popped the _P _and then pulled the string to unravel the knot that held his basketball shorts in place. "The amateur UFC tournament is tomorrow at Tyler's. Had to freshen up on my technique. Are you going?"

Bonnie nodded. "Yeah, I wanted to check it out since that's all everybody was talking about this week. So you're going to be locked in a cage beating the snot out of some guy? What's the prize? A trophy? Bragging rights? Money? A girl?"

"What if I said all of the above?" there was that wicked gleam in his eyes that made Bonnie squirm. "I'm merely doing it because it's been too long since I've kicked someone ass without having to worry about getting locked up and hit with a battery charge. But I'm glad you're getting out of the house. You were starting to scare me with your reclusive ways."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and watched as Damon's shorts dropped a little and that scandalous V where his hips and groin met came into view. She blinked rapidly.

"I should probably go and let you have some privacy," Bonnie clamored to collect her things.

"I'm just going to hop in the shower. I won't be long. I'll help you study. What_ are_ you studying by the way?"

Bonnie's eyes followed Damon as he walked over to his monstrosity of an armoire, pulled open a door, and began to rummage around where she saw him pull out a plain black tee and a pair of pajama bottoms. No underwear or socks for that matter.

"Biochem," Bonnie replied after an absurdly long time.

Damon grimaced. "I hated biochem. I did all right, though. Who's your teacher?"

"Blomkvist."

"The dude from Sweden?" Damon twisted his lips in disapproval. "I couldn't understand shit he said."

Bonnie giggled. "Yeah, that's my problem with him, too. I'm sure I'd understand biochem better if I had a teacher whose first and primary language is English. But I'm not in the mood to study."

The inflection in her voice changed sparking Damon's curiosity. He refaced the bed and finally took in what his little stepsister was wearing. There was nothing scintillating about her attire. Bonnie was dressed how Damon had come to expect her to dress, in a camisole top that made him use his imagination on what her breasts actually looked like, and shorts that exposed her beautiful legs. Her hair wasn't rumpled like she had been rolling around for hours. She looked freshly showered and ready for bed, but she was in _his _bed looking as if that's right where she belonged.

"What are you in the mood for?"

Bonnie shrugged and when she did the strap to her cami fell and exposed the top of her cleavage. Damon couldn't help it. He took more than a peek. He boldly stared at her breasts.

Bonnie didn't fidget under his heavy gaze, but the weight of it was getting to her. She quickly slipped her strap back into place and threatened her nipples not to tighten and poke out.

_He's your brother chick_, Bonnie brutally reminded herself. "Go shower," she prompted Damon. "I'll still be here not learning a thing."

"All right. I'll be right back."

In the shower Damon was proud of himself. He didn't stroke his member although it was pulsing and practically aching for some attention. _No_, he mentally told it as he swiped the towel down his shaft, over the head, and between his balls. That's all the attention it was going to get tonight. Once he removed the male stench from his body, he washed his face, (he'd moisturize in the morning), and brushed his teeth. Damon left the bathroom with slightly damp skin and wet hair as he hastily threw on his clothes and reentered his bedroom to see Bonnie stretched out on her back with another book over her face.

He dumped his clothes down the laundry chute, checked his Facebook inbox, and then, dimmed the lights.

Bonnie felt the bed dip but she didn't move over although she was resting in the middle of the bed, yet there was more than enough space. With her legs crossed at the ankles, she pretended as if she were asleep despite the fact the scent of Damon's body wash was stirring up her senses.

The book was removed from her face and Bonnie slowly opened her eyes. Damon was beside her, but hovering over her. His wet ink black hair dangled but couldn't conceal what she identified as raw hunger in his eyes. Instantly she felt nervous, but then questioned why. Goose bumps rose and covered her skin.

Was being here sending out the wrong message, Bonnie wondered. She wasn't an idiot. She knew without having to ask that Damon wanted to have sex with her, and she could waste time asking why, but she knew the answer. They were brother and sister through and by marriage, and legally speaking she wasn't Giuseppe's adopted daughter so there really was nothing but a vague title between them. That was it. However, if they went there they'd be crossing a propriety line.

Her hands didn't care, apparently as her left reached up and brushed Damon's hair off his face. Very lightly she traced the shape of his cheek until the pad of her thumb arrived at the corner of his lips. Over the bottom it went and Damon opened his mouth a little and slid out the tip of his tongue wetting her digit.

She didn't move a single muscle the second Damon's hand began to caress her stomach, but she did let out a little puff of air when his fingers slipped under her shirt so he could touch skin.

There was fear in Bonnie's eyes but something else. Need. Want. A willingness to experiment. Desire. Damon wasn't sure, but she wasn't cursing him out, nor was she slapping him into the middle of next week. Her skin was warm, almost feverish compared to his tepid warmth. The muscles of her belly contracted against his fingers as if they were piano keys and he was a composer.

He had thought about touching her since before she arrived in California. He had hired a private investigator to get candid's of Bonnie, and out of the bunch that was emailed to him, the one that stuck out the most to Damon was Bonnie coming out of the pool at the local YMCA wearing a white and pink polka dot bikini.

For so long he had wanted to touch her, live out his fantasy, and it appeared it was about to come true. But he knew he had to exercise caution because Bonnie really wasn't herself. She was under the influence of alcohol which shrunk her inhibitions, but she wasn't falling down drunk, and was still aware of everything that was happening. Damon didn't want her trying to accuse him of coerced sex or molestation later.

He kept his hands on her belly although they were pleading with him to either head north or south, either direction was perfectly fine with them.

Bonnie's eyebrows drew together as Damon's tongue continued to flick against her thumb. "Kiss me," her mouth said and before her brain could process what the hell was going on, Damon's lips were sealed over hers.

The way he kissed her was nothing less than savage. Bonnie cupped the back of Damon's neck as he worked his mouth over hers as if he were digging for lost treasure. His tongue stabbed in her mouth and rolled over hers causing her to whimper. His hand, the one that had been on her stomach went up to cup her breast.

Bonnie moaned and disengaged her mouth before it was taken again. Everything was happening at once, the sensations of pleasure and excitement, of feeling like she was free falling into a pit of lava before diving upward at the last second to ascend to the North Pole. Damon's hand kneaded her breast until her nipple was a turgid peak that he soon squeezed, twisted, flicked, and pulled with his thumb and index finger.

"…ooh…_shit_…" Bonnie whispered and then threw her leg over Damon's waist who easily rolled on top of her.

His dick was hard, precum dripped out of the slit of his mushroom head, and his heart was pounding so fast he felt light-headed. He let go of Bonnie's mouth to trail kisses along her jaw, and then down her neck. He pulled down a strap of her camisole exposing her breast and wasted no time latching on to a nipple.

"Damon…please…" Bonnie begged unsure of what she wanted him to do. To stop. To keep going.

Damon made the decision for her. He divested Bonnie of her top leaving her bare from the waist up. Hungrily his eyes took her in and he licked his lips before cupping both of her breasts and bringing his greedy little mouth down to suckle.

And suckle he did until Bonnie felt like wet noodles. He strummed and teased her nipples to the point Bonnie felt like they were going to catapult off her chest. Her fingers tunneled in his hair, the black strands feeling like silk, but for one instant they became short, brittle, and blond.

Bonnie gasped loudly.

The lust-induced fog was slowly starting to clear from her mind, and it happened right when Damon's fingers slipped between the band of her shorts and panties and he was fingering her clit.

She was liquid heat, and Damon couldn't _wait_ to feel Bonnie wrapped around him. He was a stickler for using condoms, but Damon wanted to enter her bareback, and he wondered if Bonnie were on any type of birth control. He'd find out soon enough as he circled her channel about to plunge his finger deep inside

"We have to stop," Bonnie began to squirm, and twist her hips away in a futile attempt to prevent him from penetrating her with his digit.

Damon mumbled something incoherent and it didn't help much that her boob was in his mouth making it impossible to understand him.

Adding more pressure to his arms, Bonnie pushed Damon away, and then quickly reached for her shirt.

"The fuck?" he growled at her. "Bonnie what the hell…why'd you stop me?" he asked petulantly. He knew she wanted it. His soaked digits was proof enough that she did.

Bonnie was trembling as she slipped her shirt back on. Tears were rising up and leaking out of her eyes. "I shouldn't have told you to kiss me. None of this should have happened. We went too far. I'm so sorry, Damon."

"You do this shit to me all the time!"

Bonnie blinked not understanding his hostility. She just saved the both of them from making a colossal mistake.

Damon saw her befuddled expression which only angered him more. "Don't sit there and act like some innocent _virgin_. You get me worked up, give me mixed signals, and then you initiate shit without intending to see it through. Why'd you bring your ass here to my room? What? Was it so you could get me hard up, walk away, and laugh about it later? Get the fuck out!"

Bonnie lowered her eyes, as she choked on her tears. She scrambled out of bed and flew out of Damon's room.

The young man rubbed a hand over his face and then cursed when he saw that Bonnie had left her books behind. He threw them across the room and then slammed his back on the bed. He was still very much hard, very much horny, but he was too pissed off to see or think straight. Bonnie was a fucking tease! He knew that yet still had hope that she was ready to stop bullshitting him, act on their attraction, and take things to the next level. He could give a damn about her being his sister if that's what she was still hung up on. They didn't grow up together, didn't take naps in the same play pen, they didn't have any kind of history with one another.

He had a mind to go find Sheila—not to fuck her—but to tell her what a wonderful, fucking little tease she raised and should be so proud that Bonnie was holding on to her virtue by a gotdamn thread. He wasn't going to get any sleep in his current state, so he got off the bed, looked for his cell and called up Mila. She answered on the second ring and rattled off her address. Damon threw on some clothes, grabbed his keys, and he was out the door.

* * *

**The next morning…**

"Why are you whispering?" the voice on the other end of the phone questioned Bonnie.

Currently she was sitting in her shower, fully dressed for a day of shopping with Sarah who was on her way over. The door to her bathroom was locked and water was running in the sink as a way to drown out the sound of her voice.

"I fucked up last night."

"What did you do?"

Bonnie nibbled on her thumbnail; the one Damon's tongue had taken liberties with. She sucked her teeth in disgust and stopped. "I almost slept with my stepbrother."

"Fuck, _Bonnie_," the speaker was incredulous. "How the hell did that _almost _happen?"

The confused girl shook her head. "One minute I was studying in his room and the next he popped up all sweaty and started stripping in front of me, hopped in the shower, came out, climbed into bed with me, and then I told him to kiss me."

"You already know how many mistakes you made without me having to point them out to you so I won't waste time talking about that. I thought you said you weren't attracted to him?"

Bonnie scoffed. "You've never seen Damon Salvatore sweaty and shirtless. I was feeling…vulnerable."

"No," the voice refuted sharply. "Your ass was feeling horny and Damon Salvatore lucked out because he was the only guy available. I thought you were into what's his name…Steven?"

"Stefan," Bonnie corrected. "I am. Stefan is nice, and he treats me so well but he…"

"Lacks a certain let's fuck right now appeal."

Bonnie groaned. Why must everything in the world boil down to how someone made you feel sexually?

"No, that's not it at all. Look, I didn't call to make comparison notes between them or anything. I just don't know what to do. Things were already awkward between me and Giuseppe's children," that's putting it mildly, Bonnie inwardly snorted. "Now I've just made things worse."

"Yeah is his oldest brat still living there?"

"For the time being. My mom and Giuseppe return next week from their honeymoon. I fully intend to move forward with convincing him to kick Katherine out. But in the meantime, how am I supposed to handle Damon?"

"If Damon were anything like me he'd probably just ignore your ass and leave you alone. Guys don't like to get their chains yanked in this department. I don't think his feelings are hurt, his pride—maybe—so he'll probably be cool and indifferent. You're not a challenge to him anymore, but if you need him on your side to carry out the rest of your diabolical plan, whatever that may be, then you're going to have to take one for the team and grovel."

"Ugh!" Bonnie pressed her forehead against the cool tile of her shower. "If he wants nothing else to do with me, and I start trying to spend time with him, he'll rebuff me, and there's only so many times I can allow that to happen before the bitch comes out."

There was silence for a while. "Let the bitch out."

"Okay, now you're confusing me."

"Damon thinks you purposely got him all hot and bothered only to throw up the deuces, right?"

"I guess," Bonnie murmured uncertainly.

"So then act like you wanted to fuck up his head. Oh, he'll be pissed but intrigued because he wouldn't suspect _you_ of being capable of something like that. Act like its no big deal and that you were doing _him _a favor by even allowing him to wrap his tongue around your tig-o-bitties."

Bonnie couldn't help it. She giggled.

"Some dudes love innocent girls, and then some dudes only respond to bitchiness. Damon seems like, from what you told me, the kind who gets off on conquering the female version of himself. Submission, that's what it boils down to. If you approach him all meek and mild he'll have power over you and he'll flaunt and use that to his advantage. But if you step to him like a pitbull in a skirt, he won't know what hit him. He'll be putty in your hands once again, and at your service should you so need him."

Nodding, Bonnie was feeling hopeful that things with Damon could be salvaged. "Thank you, Marcel."

"Anything for you, baby girl."

"You're still coming to my party next week, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

"Cool. Let me go. I'm sure my friend is here by now."

"All right. Keep me posted."

"Will do. Bye."

"Later."

Bonnie hung up her cell and then climbed out of the shower. She turned off the sink and stared at her reflection thinking over everything Marcel told her.

Marcel du Pointe was the son of one of Abby's prior flames. When the heat went out of that relationship, Bonnie and Marcel had managed to remain in touch with one another after bonding over moonpies and milkshakes when they were ditched together so their parents could go out of town. Bonnie could admit to having a raging crush on Marcel back when she was twelve, and thought she met her future husband. He was older than her by three years, had been the first boy she ever kissed, but they haggled like brother and sister, and Marcel kind of took Bonnie under his wing in his own way.

He was now in his sophomore year of college playing wide receiver at Temple University. Whenever she was going through something, it was Marcel she turned to for advice that had nothing to do with reading tea leaves in the bottom of a cup like Grams would suggest. Marcel gave her a bird's eye view into the male mind and it was something she needed especially after her encounter with Brady, and now with Damon.

Marcel didn't know about Brady, and though Bonnie started to tell him plenty of times, she was just afraid of what he might say, but more importantly she was afraid he'd look at her differently.

With Brady hovering in the background and her blunder with Damon, the walls were closing in on Bonnie, and she knew it was past time to get her ducks in a row. Her old problems in Virginia seemed to have found their way to California, and that just wasn't acceptable. Factor in her behavior last night, Bonnie sighed. It was a mistake and hopefully one she won't be repeating anytime soon.

"Who are you kidding?" she lamented. "You're already in too deep."

A twinge of guilt stabbed her belly as her thoughts soon turned to Stefan. Bonnie did like him, liked who she was around him, but even still the young woman couldn't help but feel she was pretending to be something she wasn't. And admittedly Bonnie was beginning to lose sight of who she was. Was the real her the girl who had once been blindfolded and ordered to perform sexual acts on a man fifteen years her senior? Or did the real Bonnie appear when she was alone making out with Damon? Or was she herself when she was around friends? Her mom? Grams?

She was uncertain, and could probably argue that all those different facets encompassed who she was at heart.

Someone knocked on her bedroom door prompting Bonnie out of the bathroom. "Come in," she called.

The door opened and a golden head popped into view. It was Sarah looking ready to shoot a catalogue spread for Lacoste.

"You ready to burn through your savings?" Sarah asked before making her petite frame comfortable on the edge of Bonnie's bed.

"Yeah, I just need to grab my bag which is in the kitchen and then let my Grams know I won't be back until later."

"Oh, you're not staying over at Tyler's?" Sarah got up to her feet, long raven hair shifting with her movement.

"Probably not. I don't intend to get that drunk to turn the party into a sleepover."

Sarah looped her caramel arm through Bonnie's. Most people, when they saw them together, automatically assumed they were sisters. They were the same height, almost carried the same build. Sarah had the better rack in Bonnie's opinion, and Sarah always proclaimed she'd kill a legion of children to have Bonnie's legs. Each of them was satisfied with their rear ends. Out of the friends and loose acquaintances Bonnie has made since moving to Cali, she felt the closest to Sarah.

"Well," Sarah interrupted Bonnie's musings, "I don't plan to get that drunk either considering it's not very cute to vomit on the guy you've been cyber stalking for the last month."

Bonnie grinned. "Still haven't made any leeway with Levi?"

"No," Sarah pouted. "He's still insisting on dating Elizabitch Adams."

"I'm sure her name is Elizabeth."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," Bonnie was quick to placate.

The two gossiping queens made it to the kitchen. Bonnie wasn't sure if Damon was still around or not but the kitchen, mostly the refrigerator was his second favorite place in the whole house. He put away food like a sumo wrestler, but never gained an ounce of fat. Bonnie was now aware of how he worked off the calories.

Her skin flushed. "Grams?" Bonnie shouted.

Her grandmother appeared. "What is it?"

"Sarah and I are going shopping and then later we're heading over to Tyler's. You remember him? He's Damon's cousin. I'll be back by curfew."

Sheila looked suspicious but that's how she always looked. She hugged her granddaughter and told her to call if her plans changed.

"Have you seen Damon?" Bonnie questioned on the sly.

Sheila shook her head. "I saw him this morning right before he slipped out. Why? Did you need him for something?"

"No, just curious. I'll probably see him at Tyler's," Bonnie and Sarah began to inch their way towards the door.

"That a party you going to?" Sheila questioned.

"Something like it," Bonnie replied vaguely. "Love you."

"Uh-hun. Just so you know I don't have bail money so don't do anything reckless. Be careful, you two."

"Yes, ma'am," Bonnie and Sarah spoke in unison sounding like they belonged in a glee club. They laughed and then quickly beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

**Lockwood Estate**

Typically before a fight Damon was zen. He wasn't a religious person by any stretch of the word but he did like meditating from time to time to clear the junk out of his head, and shake the cares of his adolescent world off his back. This time around, however, he was pissed, felt like he had a strong case of PMS, and any little thing was liable to set him off.

After delivering a few expletively laced tirades, Damon had been given a wide berth as he prepared himself mentally for his match. Damon had learned how to box at the age of ten by watching his Uncle Richard who looked for any excuse to kick the crap out of people. Damon had been fascinated by the contact sport and shared as much with his parents. Giuseppe wanted Damon to focus on his studies, and believed he would benefit more from battling his adversaries with his mind. His mother on the other hand, had been an avid believer that an energetic child like Damon needed something to bring him down from his natural high, but also to act as an outlet for his testosterone. So he was whisked off every Friday night and Saturday morning to the dojo where he learned different styles of Karate, and when he hit thirteen that's where he climbed into the ring and learned kickboxing.

Rolling his shoulders to loosen his muscles, Damon bobbed his head as he listened to "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons.

Several times he combed through his memories of last night. Coming home and finding Bonnie in his room, on his bed like it was something she did every single day. Like it was no big deal. As if they shared that kind of relationship. Despite himself, he smirked because he had done the same thing, lain in wait in her room hoping to get a moment of her time when she had been acting on her mom's behest during the wedding preparations. That night had signified a change in their relationship. He had dressed Bonnie for her date with Stefan, but she had sort of lowered her guard to be around him long enough without wanting to claw his eyes out.

What seemed like ages ago wasn't really that long ago. Logically speaking he had covered more ground than he thought he would have in only knowing Bonnie for two short months. Damon was not used to moving at a glacial pace when it came to being with a girl he sat his blue-eyed gaze on. But already he couldn't escape feeling as if Bonnie had eaten away so much of his time.

In his anger he had tried not take it out on Mila's tight ass, but she didn't seem to mind his aggression, and actually seemed to enjoy it from the way she clawed her nails down his back, arched her body, and moaned in his ear how good his dick was for a seventeen (almost eighteen) year old.

He was Italian, a quarter French, Sicilian, and American. It was in his blood to be a good lay. Enough said.

Damon taped his own hands and did his stretching. The fights were about to start in the next twenty minutes. He fished out his mouthpiece and cleaned it.

Tyler was horsing around looking like a beast in the process as his muscles bunched and flexed under his olive skin. Damon's ribs were oh so happy they would not be fighting tonight. Jackson was occupied with making goo-goo eyes at himself in the mirror more concerned with styling his hair than getting into the proper mind-set to enter a mixed martial arts tournament.

Damon's thoughts shifted back to Bonnie despite his wishes. God, she had tasted amazing even while he detected a hint of his dad's seventy year old scotch on her breath. And her body, Damon shifted as _his_ body took pleasure in remembering the soft texture of her skin and how it responded to his touch.

He hated her. He hated himself for allowing himself to get sucked into her trap. As much as he wanted to be disgusted with Bonnie, and Bonnie alone, Damon's conscience just had to remember Bonnie confiding that she felt safe with him. The memory woke him out of his post-coital nap like a douse of ice water to the face. He didn't know what happened during her childhood or early adolescence for Bonnie to not feel safe with guys. True, Bonnie didn't have that many male friends here in California, but she was probably just one of those girls who felt more comfortable in the company of those of the same sex. Or maybe a prior boyfriend got too rough with her, and therefore made her extremely cautious and skittish.

If that were the case then Damon felt like an even bigger asshole for throwing her out of his room the way he had. He knew the right thing to do was to talk to her, smooth things over, and apologize—yuck—but his pride was in the way chirping in his ear saying she played you, teased you, and she doesn't deserve your sympathy.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Damon popped out one of his earbuds. It was time to head to the massive Lockwood backyard were a custom built cage with a white canvas mat was waiting to be painted blood red. The spectators would have bleachers to sit on. One of LA's hottest DJ's had been commissioned to keep the crowd hype, and professional models had been solicited to hold up round cards in tiny, barely there bikinis.

It was going to be a good night.

* * *

By the time Bonnie and Sarah arrived, a good hour and a half after the tournament started, they turned heads as they made their way to Tyler's infamously huge backyard. Bonnie couldn't believe the size of the crowd that had gathered from every nook and cranny of LA just to be here and watch amateur boxers fight. She had never been to anything like this mostly because no one had the financial means to put together something of this magnitude in Mystic Falls. When guys wanted to scrap, they did it in the parking lot after school or in the woods. They didn't bring in cages, bleachers, DJ's, or stadium lights, just pulled off their shirts and got down to business.

The lengths high school kids went to for entertainment would never cease to amaze Bonnie.

Taking Marcel's advice to heart, Bonnie decided if she were going to be a bitch she might as well look good while being one. She and Sarah stopped at the Mac store where Bonnie had her makeup done, and then she fashioned her hair to mimic her friends'. Her long chocolate locks had been parted down the middle and flat ironed until her tresses were pin straight and could slide through fingers like turning pages in a book. Her lips were painted in the deepest but brightest red which served to accentuate the shape of them. And for her attire, nothing but head to toe black Armani Exchange. From her jeans that looked painted on, to the tank underneath her leather riding jacket, to the ankle booties adorning her feet.

"Hey," Bonnie greeted her friends with hugs and air kisses. They were seated nowhere near the actual cage which was just fine with Bonnie, but as she took a glance she could see the fighters perfectly.

Her breath hitched a little because Damon was up and his opponent was Bryce Harrison, co-captain of the wrestling team.

Instead of watching, Bonnie rolled her eyes and turned her head away and went back to engaging Lexi and friends in conversation.

Damon didn't know how he did it, but he took his eyes off Bryce for just a second and then his orbs focused in on Bonnie. He shouldn't have been able to do that considering the size of the crowd, and the fact his vision was blurry in his right eye. But he saw her looking like a fucking doll in her all black ensemble with those obscenely red lips of hers. What really got his goat was the fact she wasn't even watching him!

_Crack_, he just received a punch to the head. Now that caught his attention.

Damon growled and turned deadly, feral eyes on Bryce and delivered a series of roundhouse kicks, landing each one, connecting with flesh with the heel of his foot.

Bryce went down, and Damon jumped on him, straddling his chest as he wailed on his puffy head, until the referee pulled Damon off Bryce. The poor kid looked like he had no idea where he was, and wondered if he should follow the yellow brick road to get to Grandma's house, before Goldilocks ate his porridge.

The referee asked Bryce if he were all right. The buzz cut kid nodded, shook the fogginess from his head, and put his hands up in fighting stance.

_You should have stayed down_, Damon thought.

"Damon is on fire tonight!" Sarah gushed and took a huge sip from a bottle.

Bonnie didn't want to hear that because it only piqued her curiosity. She looked towards the ring and saw Damon work Bryce across the mat with an agility that looked symbolic of a master schooling his pupil on showing the proper respect. His legs and arms whipped out in rapid fire delivering blows and kicks that dropped Bryce to his knees. The poor guy spat out his mouthpiece and a wad of blood. The ref instantly began to hover, and Damon dropped his arms and looked bored, but pissed that Bryce wasn't holding his own.

Some words were exchanged, and then Bryce hobbled to get a drink of water. He slipped his mouthpiece in and was determined to finish this round to its inevitable end.

Bonnie sized up the opponents. Where Bryce was compact and bulky, Damon was lean and feline, which was the best way to describe him. Physically they were mismatched. Skill wise, again, Damon seemed to have the advantage. Bryce didn't stand a chance, and the next time Damon hit him with a jab to his oblique, Bryce went down and stayed down.

_Shit, that was hot_, Bonnie thought and shook herself. She learned something useful about her stepbrother. He was more than just a pretty face. Damon could hold his own in a fight. And look damned good while doing it but that wasn't the point. His hair was matted with sweat, his cheeks were a bright pink, and his boxing shorts were black and clung to his legs. Bonnie had to look away.

Three of Bryce's friends, all members of the wrestling team rushed in to help their fallen friend. The ref held up Damon's arm as being the winner of this round. Damon didn't smile amid the cheers, whistles, and applause, and surprisingly to Bonnie he didn't so much as wink at one single female that had crowded around the steps leading to and out of the cage. He actually pushed a few of them aside as he walked over to his area where his Russian concubine squirted water into his mouth and wiped blood off his face.

Bonnie's phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled it out and saw that it was Stefan calling. It was too loud for her to listen, so she hit the ignore button and sent him a text. He was supposed to fight in the tournament.

Not three seconds later, he responded. He was running late, but on the way.

Damon had one more fight and then he was done for the night. It was never about winning the whole enchilada. He took out who he was matched with, and that was it. This wasn't his passion, this wasn't his job, it was a hobby, but tonight he kind of wanted to go all the way.

He peered through the crowd spotting _her. _She was sitting on Lexi's lap, laughing, smiling wide like she had not a care in the world. That wasn't the Bonnie he had expected to see. No, the Bonnie that should have made an appearance would have been dressed in all black—yes, but she should have been looking homely and pious, and deeply sorry for her sins not turning heads with her sweet little ass.

"If you stare at her any harder she's going to turn into stone," Tyler broke Damon out of his death glare. He turned to face his cousin. "I've never seen you this hard up for a chick before. Does she have unicorns, hobbits, and the ring of power hidden in her pussy?"

Damon would have laughed but he would much rather settle with punching Tyler's horse-sized teeth out of his head.

Without saying a word, Damon got to his feet and began making a trek to his dear, sweet stepsister.

Bonnie felt him approaching and slipped off Lexi's lap, and put her back to Damon.

Damon tapped her on the shoulder the second he reached her. Bonnie continued talking like she didn't even feel his nudge. Several people looked at him askance and waited for Bonnie to clearly stop acting like she didn't know he was standing right behind her.

"Bonnie," he barked her name.

The young girl in question turned and then had the audacity to look him up and down like he was a piece of shit on her Manolo's.

"What do _you _want?" she sassed.

Damon's eyes bulged. No, her little tail wasn't going to act brand new with him. Anger swirled around like an F5 hurricane, and he squeezed his already swollen hand into a tight fist. Damon leaned close to Bonnie, curling his fingers around her arm where he viciously pulled her aside. Bonnie shrieked.

"What the hell is your problem, Damon?" Lexi stood up ready to face off. She didn't like it when men manhandled women. "Let her go."

"Stay out of it, Lex. I need to talk to her for a minute," Damon proceeded to pull Bonnie after him.

The whole time they were walking, Bonnie tried to wrench herself free but was unable to do so. She glowered at Damon.

"What is your problem?" she fumed.

Damon stopped walking and then swung Bonnie in front of him. "Did you even watch the fight?"

"No, why would I? Because you were fighting?" Bonnie ripped her arm away. "What is wrong with you?"

In truth, Damon didn't really know. He just knew it bothered him immensely that they didn't get to finish what _she _started, and then for her to show up late for his fight, and not cheer him on…Damon combed a hand through his hair knowing he needed to get himself together because Bonnie had him out of sorts.

"Look," Bonnie said, "I'm going to take a walk and let you calm down. I don't know what's gotten into you, Damon, but don't put your hands on me like that again. If you're still upset about last night…get over it."

He blinked and heard the beep of a flat line sounding off somewhere. This bitch! Damon took one step towards her to which Bonnie's eyes widened.

She took off as fast as her four inch heels would allow her as she pounded her way inside the Lockwood estate. Bonnie entered the house through what she could only call the sitting room, parlor, whatever. There were chairs, a baby grand piano that looked like it was mostly in the room for decoration, an entire wall was dedicated to books, and towering plants decorated each corner. It was nice, definitely had "Stay Out" written all over it.

Weaving her way through the room, Bonnie had just reached the door when she heard the one she just walked through open and close. She didn't waste time turning around to see who it was because she already knew.

Bonnie pulled open the door only for it to slam shut. She was spun around and met a fierce pair of blue eyes.

"I don't have time for one of your tantrums, Damon. Get the _hell _away from me."

His eyes roamed her over, couldn't help it. He was getting hard.

"You enjoy being a tease," he pressed himself flush against her so Bonnie could feel how being around her affected him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the door.

Bonnie tried to ignore that _thing _beginning to poke her in the hip. "Damon, what happened the other night was a mistake and one I won't be repeating. If you love your eyeballs then I suggest you back the fuck up!"

He wasn't listening because one second he looked ready to tear her to shreds and the next he was kissing her. Bonnie squeaked and squirmed, and the more Damon kissed her, the more she responded.

The minute she moaned, Damon did as well—in approval. He let go of Bonnie's wrists so he could instead wrap his arms around her to bring her closer. Bonnie took advantage of the move and slithered her arms over his shoulders.

His lips pillaged hers and she didn't want him to stop. Not for a while at least. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans for her because Damon was ripped away, a fist connected with his cheek, and he went flying into the bookshelf knocking a few books down to the floor.

"Fuck," Damon cursed before slumping on his ass.

Bonnie's eyes widened in horror as she watched Brady who seemingly sprang up out of no fucking where approach Damon like he was going to kill him.

"Brady, stop!" Bonnie screamed.

Damon managed to get back on his feet, squared his shoulders, and then threw himself at Brady.

To be continued.

**A/N: What did you think? Bonnie is slowly coming to terms with her attraction to Damon, but unfortunately she can't really shake the trauma that happened with Brady. Now you guys know who Bonnie was talking to on the phone after the wedding, although at the time I didn't know he existed, and was going to go with someone else, but I think Marcel is fitting. I'll give more background into her relationship with Marcel in future chapters. And the showdown between Damon and Brady, who exactly will come out on top? Stay tuned. Until next time, love you guys!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm back sooner than expected. Yea! I must say the reviews for last chapter were awesome and kind of added the pressure for me to follow up with something that would meet everyone's expectation. I hope I succeeded. Here is the latest! Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

It felt like he walked face first into concrete. Fire erupted behind his eyes, blood poured unceasingly from his nose, the world went on a tailspin, but he was still standing. Lethargy was trying to claim him, but it was pure unfiltered adrenaline that kept him on his feet. It hurt like a bitch to make a fist, rear back and throw it, but Damon did and connected with ribs before delivering another blow that struck a kidney.

Damon didn't know who the hell he was fighting, but whoever he was picked the wrong fucking day to mess with him.

Air whooshed out of Brady's mouth, but he quickly recovered and made a reach for Damon's neck. Once he caught it, he squeezed and watched in delight as the teen's eyes first bulged in surprise seconds before they began to roll to the back of his head.

"_BRADY STOP IT!" _Bonnie yelled hysterically and looked around helplessly for some kind of weapon to pry Brady off Damon before he had the life choked out of him.

Giuseppe's heir was beginning to turn blue in the face as he clutched at Brady's hand. Executing a move straight out of a Jet Li movie, Damon jumped and wrapped his leg around his attacker's arm and shoulder, he twisted his body crashing the both of them to the floor. Fingers loosened enough for Damon to jerk his head backwards as he retched violently trying to catch his breath. Still holding on to Brady's arm, Damon arched backward while tightening his legs, and smiled viciously when he heard a definite snap.

An inhumane roar was ripped from Brady's thorax. His legs began thrashing around in a futile attempt to escape the pain pounding in his right arm and the intense heat that licked up his limb and fondled his spinal cord.

"Fuuuuccckkkkk!" the retired cop cursed loudly.

Still trying to catch a breath, Damon kicked away from Brady, got to his feet and wobbled. Bonnie rushed forward to help him, but at the last second she was pushed aside and nearly lost her footing.

_What the hell was this guy on?_ Damon wondered as Brady charged toward him like a lion that escaped captivity.

The collision sent both men tumbling to the floor where Damon's shoulder connected with the coffee table and his head bounced off the Persian rug. His chest was straddled the same way he straddled Bryce Harrison and before he could get his arms up to protect his head, it was being punched from left to right, right to left.

Blood flew and speckled whatever fabric or surface was nearby.

Damon had taken his fair share of beatings but nothing to this magnitude. His opponent though up there in age outweighed him by a good thirty pounds all muscle and brute strength. Damon was fast but this guy operated almost supernaturally, moving swift and adjusting when necessary while delivering punishing blows that left Damon feeling like his organs were going to leak out of every single orifice his body possessed.

The world kept disappearing from view. The back of his throat grew hot as if someone shoved coals down his esophagus. It was a telltale sign he was about to blow chunks. He didn't know why this guy was beating the living crap out of him; he just wished he'd stop. His point, whatever it was, should have been made by this point. Damon had nothing left him in.

Bonnie couldn't let things continue like this. She was small and compared to Brady and Damon she was defenseless, however she had nails and knees and she was going to use them both.

With Brady preoccupied with removing all traces of Damon's crowning glory from his face, Bonnie ran up behind Brady and tugged on his hair as hard as she could. She managed to wrench his head back where she quickly dug her manicured nails deep into his eye sockets and pulled.

"Shhhhittttt," Brady cried out and tumbled off Damon as his hands instantly went up to shield his eyeballs.

A foot connected with his jaw and he was thrown completely on his side where he laid on the floor too afraid to blink unsure if he had been temporarily blinded.

Bonnie fell beside Damon, tears making tracks down her cheeks, smearing her makeup. Her hands hesitated and fidgeted out of fear of touching him and causing him more pain. With Brady momentarily down she had to get Damon out of here who was moaning and making incoherent noises that sounded like speech, but came out more as baby gibberish.

His face was black and blue. Bottom lip split as if cut with a serrated edge razor. Right eye sealed shut, discolored and puffy. Purple and red veins bulged angrily from his shiner making it equally hard for Bonnie to look at him.

She grabbed Damon's hand and tried to pull him to a sitting position, but he was dead weight, lead.

Fury quickened in Bonnie's blood and she turned deadly, feral eyes on Brady who was still rolling around, blinking his eyes. Her nails had done a wonderful job of ripping skin and leaving behind welts but that wasn't enough.

Rising to her feet, she approached Brady and peered down at him for a moment. Every thing he did to her, all the things he made her do bubbled to the surface and rushed through her like saline. Hate wasn't even a strong enough _word_ to describe how this piece of shit made her feel. He ruined her, destroyed what was left of her childhood and innocence and had the nerve to act like he did her a fucking favor, like they were best fucking friends.

She would show him what she did to the "friends" who screwed her over.

Bonnie raised her foot and brought it down with all the force she possessed right on Brady's golden nuggets.

Brady's screams could be heard all the way to the second floor of the massive estate. Several people who were loitering around Tyler's palatial home stopped their actions, turned to the sound before looking at one another unsure of what was going on, and hesitant if they should intervene.

Back inside the room, Bonnie lifted her foot once more, far from satisfied. Instinctively Brady cupped himself. His hand was impaled by the heel of her boot. She ground down, twisting the skin determined to reach his cream-filled genitals below. Brady's vocal cords couldn't even emit a single sound. He had been stunned to silence.

"You sick sonofabitch!" Bonnie railed. She switched legs and now used her left. She grinned in delight when she felt his balls take the brunt of that stomp.

"…_.bonnie….please…stop…"_ Brady pleaded.

She ignored him naturally. "Did you stop when I asked you to? Did you leave me alone? No! You didn't. You kept coming back for more. You made me suck you off. You made me finger myself in front of you, you disgusting asshole!"

Damon who had pulled himself up could do nothing but sit there, bleed, watch, and listen. His hearing wasn't exactly the best since the ringing in his ears pretty much dominated and drowned out everything, but he could kind of read lips. From his one good eye, he could translate the gist of what Bonnie was saying.

She knew this man and he did something to her that was completely unforgivable and un-rectifiable, and she was taking it out on his nuts. As Mr. Burns would say, _excellent_.

"Get one in for me, Bonnie," Damon coughed and spat up a wad of blood.

"With pleasure," Bonnie deadpanned and kicked Brady clear across the face. Her toe was on fire but she didn't care. She welcomed the pain.

The door to the room chose that unfortunate moment to burst open. Bonnie looked up and into the eyes of Mason. His eyes quickly darted from her, to Damon, before coming to rest on Brady who was holding on to consciousness by a thread.

"What the hell is going on?" Mason demanded undecided on who he should help first. He crossed over the nearly destroyed room to his nephew and folded to rest on his haunches. He lightly gripped Damon by the shoulder. "Gotdamn," he whispered and shook his head.

Bonnie stabbed her index finger at her abuser. "This bastard attacked Damon for no reason," she spat heatedly. Her foot twitched wanting to give Brady another kick to the face for luck.

A crowd quickly gathered in the doorway, their faces in differing states of shock. Several people pulled out their phones to record what was unfolding, but didn't get to video much because additional security pushed them out of the way, and barked at them to get lost or they would face charges for invasion of privacy.

Mason looked over his shoulder. "Marco, get Brady out of here and to a hospital."

Marco, who was a stoic Samoan, nodded and none-too-gently, jerked Brady to his feet and carried him out of the room.

"Do you think you can stand?" Mason asked Damon.

"You mean I'm not standing already? No wonder my feet feel funny. I'm sitting on my ass."

It was just like him to crack jokes when Mason was positive Damon didn't know who or where he was at the moment. Wrapping Damon's left arm over his shoulder, while Mason's right went around his waist, slowly he pulled the injured teen to his feet.

Bonnie rushed over to lend her assistance by carefully draping Damon's right arm over her shoulder. Very leisurely the trio made their way out of the room and down to the basement where there was a nurse who had been hired in the off chance one of the fighters needed medical attention.

Damon groaned, cursed, but he didn't cry as he was helped on to a portable examination table. The nurse asked him a series of questions he did his best to answer, but all he wanted to do was sleep for the next millennium.

Mason held up the wall with his arms folded tightly across his chest. Bonnie stood beside him worrying her bottom lip.

"Take me through what happened step by step," Mason opened up the dialogue.

Bonnie sucked in a deep breath and recounted what happened substituting the fact that she and Damon had been kissing by saying they had been talking. Talking about the fact Damon's feelings had been hurt she didn't watch his match. Brady came out of nowhere and punched Damon who retaliated, and the two of them fought like the Greeks against the Trojans until Bonnie saw an opening to get Brady off her stepbrother. That's what he walked in on, Bonnie concluded.

Mason wore no discernible expression on his face so Bonnie didn't know what he thought of the tale she just weaved. Maybe he believed her. Maybe he didn't. Mason was the one who had a more lengthy history with Brady, knew his character at least the one he perpetuated. Bonnie had no clue if Brady was some kind of undisciplined hot-head who started fights without cause or provocation, or just liked beating the snot out of kids half his age. So she literally held her breath waiting for Mason to respond.

"He told me he got his anger under control. Guess he lied," Mason said flatly. "What's his prognosis, Leilani?"

The nurse, a sinfully and regally beautiful woman with flowing chestnut hair, angular feathers, and a waif-like body, shook her head.

"More than likely he has a concussion, deep tissue bruising, and his nose could be broken. I say he needs to take a trip to Cedars to be checked out and x-rayed."

"Great," Mason muttered in displeasure. He dug in his pocket and called someone to bring one of the SUV's around.

"I want to come," Bonnie jumped on board to go with Damon. After all, it was her fault that Brady pulled himself off his leash and went to town on him.

"All right," Mason agreed and the two of them once again flanked Damon and carried him out of the basement.

It was disconcerting for Bonnie to walk the halls with people from her school crowding them and staring in shocked awe and horror the second their disbelieving eyes landed on Damon. Seeing the reigning king of Manchester Prep, the archduke of Orange County beaten almost beyond recognition was like doing shots of castor oil. People just couldn't take it. She passed her friends who wore mirrored expressions of mortification.

Bonnie heard her name being shouted as voices raised and girls started reaching for Damon with tears welling in their eyes. When his friends got a good look at him they were ready to hunt down the bastard who fucked him up, and repay him with interest.

Tyler was livid and fell in step with his uncle. "What hospital are you taking him to?"

"Cedars," Mason responded.

"All right, I'll follow."

"No, you stay here and handle crowd control. I'll call you later."

Stefan came into view, a look of concern marring his perfect features. Again, a jolt of guilt drop kicked Bonnie. She had forgotten his existence all because of her entanglement with Damon.

"Bonnie?" he asked though he couldn't rip his eyes off his unbeknownst rival. He walked backwards to keep up as she, Mason, and Damon charged forward to the main atrium. "What's going on?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she snapped. "We're taking Damon to the hospital. I'll call you later."

With that she and Mason turned Damon sharply to the right and then they were outside making their way down steps that never looked more treacherous than they did right now. A black SUV with heavily tinted windows idled. The back passenger was door open.

"Watch your head," Mason directed to his nephew and pushed Damon inside. Mason helped Bonnie in who slid in next to Damon and slammed the door before climbing into the passenger seat.

What another typical Saturday night.

* * *

Only three kinds of people were still up at this hour. The kind looking to get laid, the kind that broke the law, and the other who toted someone from the emergency room. A rush of cool air smacked Bonnie in the face as she held on tightly to Damon's waist and led him inside Giuseppe's swanky LA condo. Mason walked ahead of them, flipping on lights while he did a cursory perimeter check.

It was decided after checking Damon out of Cedars-Sinai Hospital that they would not return to Catalina where they would be met with Grams' inquisition. Bonnie was in no particular mood to have to dance around the truth, make up lies in lieu of explaining why Damon looked like he was a crash test dummy body double. As she turned her attention to Damon who was somewhere between unconsciousness and lucidity, Bonnie's brow dimpled in concern and anger.

Brady had done a masterful job of trying to rearrange Damon's cover girl face, and liquefy his organs, but other than deep tissue bruising, a concussion, busted lip, and black eye, Damon was…well he wasn't fine, but he was alive. His pale white skin was discolored into shades of indigo, cobalt, and deep rose. Bonnie felt terrible _and _responsible for his current condition.

While she and Mason waited in the emergency room waiting room, she avoided making eye contact with her new step-uncle who grilled her about what happened while they waited for news from Damon's physician. Bonnie repeated her story, never changing or altering facts. There was a part of her that wanted to tell Mason the truth about his bestie and subordinate, but that came at a risk of exposing her past with Brady which would in turn open up Pandora's Box. She wasn't keeping quiet to protect Brady's fragile and nefarious reputation; she was doing it because she was quite comfortable with living in denial.

The topic of pressing charges did come up, and Mason said he would hold off until he got the story from his nephew and Brady, well once Brady's nuts recuperated from meeting Bonnie's boot.

Maybe her silence might be construed as cowardice, but it wasn't about her—explicitly—it was about making sure Damon survived the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours in as much comfort as his injuries would allow.

With Mason's help they managed to get Damon settled in the master bedroom located on the second floor. The penthouse was large, spaciously, and opulently decorated. Bonnie would snoop later, but for right now she was pouring her energy into taking care of Damon.

The second his butt hit the pillow top mattress Damon was knocked out. His weight nearly plopped Bonnie right on top of him, but she caught herself before she straddled him. Mason pushed Damon's legs on the bed, and took off his shoes.

"I have him from here," Bonnie said and tucked strands of her hair behind her ears. It had been driving her crazy all night, getting in the way, getting in her eyes, getting caught and pulled by arms and fingers. She nearly wanted to hack it off.

Mason stepped away from the bed passing his suspicious cerulean eyes over his nephew, and shook his head. He motioned with his fingers for Bonnie to follow him back downstairs.

She followed but cautiously wondered if he was going to try to light into her once again. The second they made it to the main level, Mason pointed out pertinent odds and ends.

"The security code is star 1911. Hit the panic button if something happens with Damon. An ambulance will be here in less than five minutes. You have my cell number?"

Bonnie nodded. "I do."

"I'll have George come and pick you two up sometime tomorrow afternoon. I don't think either of you should go to school on Monday, but that will be Giuseppe's call."

Dread filled Bonnie's stomach like air and gas. "You're going to call him and let him know what happened?"

Mason stared at Bonnie like she was stupid for even asking him that question. "Of course I'm going to tell him, Bonnie. He needs to know one of his employees, someone I vouched for, kicked the shit out of his son. It might have been an honest mistake, but Brady _knows _what Damon looks like. I was going to assign him to Damon's personal detail when he travels internationally over winter break, but I can go ahead and cancel out that plan."

"Why would Damon need security to travel internationally? He's the son of a wealthy businessman, I get it, but it's not like Giuseppe is a celebrity or a dignitary."

"It's just something that's been in place for the last few years or so. There are a lot of civil wars happening abroad. Giuseppe just wants his kids to be safe."

What Mason wasn't going to fill Bonnie in on was the fact someone had been making threats to the Salvatore's, and there were a couple of close incidents that luckily his team of expertly trained security personnel were able to subdue and keep things quiet. Giuseppe might not have been a celebrity or a dignitary like Bonnie pointed out, but the man still had enemies, and they weren't above using his children to push their agenda, or make demands.

When you made arms and other technology for the US government and military that put a _huge_ target on your back.

Damon groaned loudly from upstairs garnering both Mason and Bonnie's attention.

"I need to check on him," the weary teen said.

"Keep your cell close to you, all right?" Mason ordered.

"Yes, sir," Bonnie complied, and watched as the broad shouldered man slipped out of the condo.

Alone and freezing, Bonnie headed over to the thermostat and tinkered with it until she figured out how to turn the heat on. Rubbing her hands together, she paraded into the kitchen, opened the fridge only to discover there was absolutely nothing but bottled water inside.

"Great," Bonnie said as her stomach began to growl. She hadn't eaten anything solid since she and Sarah grabbed a late lunch at In and Out burger. That food was long gone. Grabbing a bottled water, Bonnie went back upstairs to find Damon was still out like a light.

Slipping out of her jacket and kicking off her shoes, Bonnie climbed up on the great bed and as carefully as she could, stuffed Damon underneath the covers. Soon she joined him, and stared up at the ceiling willing her mind to shut off. It was two o'clock in the morning but she was too wired to sleep though her body was physically drained.

Turning to Damon, Bonnie leaned up and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry."

* * *

This might be the one and only time Damon would ever wish he could go back into the womb. It hurt to move, it hurt to lie still, he was just plumb hurt! When he was fifteen he had been in a car accident riding shotgun with Katherine who had been choked out of her mind. She drove her sports car, a birthday gift, into a guard rail. Damon could remember with perfect clarity the impact the airbag made when they deployed. He remembered the fear that locked up his muscles as he thought he'd be catapulted through the windshield and end up a mangled corpse on the side of the road.

Other than having a headache for two straight days and some minor cuts to his face, physically he had been fine and quickly recovered and moved on. Damon had placed the incident behind him and didn't allow fear to overrule his life, dictating his choices. He could have easily become one of those people who were terrified to leave the house thinking they might die in some horrific accident, or he never could have learned to drive letting the accident prevent him from a teenaged rite of passage. But he didn't.

What had been the scariest moment in his life paled in comparison to the fact he could have been beaten within an inch of his life last night.

The blanket that covered him felt like air on any other day, but today it was like steel applying pressure to his injuries. Groaning, he pulled the blanket from under his chin and uncovered a warm body sleeping next to him.

If his lips didn't appear as if they underwent several rounds of collagen injections he would have smiled. Instead, Damon rested as much of his weight on his side as he spooned Bonnie. The two of them sharing a bed was starting to become a practice and one he wouldn't mind they continued religiously. However, as much as he wanted to revel in the moment several questions floated around in his mind that he was going to get answers to.

Damon trailed his fingertips along her cheek. Bonnie stirred a little until her eyes fluttered open and then she craned her neck to make eye contact with him.

It took a moment for the fog to clear from her mind and for Bonnie to process that Damon was wide awake and peering at her. The evidence of his beating held her attention but beyond that she could still see Damon. Those fierce eyes, that ironical twist to his lips though those lips were double in size now. Those classical Roman features. A light five o'clock shadow surrounded his chin.

Even bruised with a severe case of bed head he was still beautiful.

Bonnie cleared her throat and sat up. "Hi."

"Hey," Damon's voice cracked.

"This is going to sound like a stupid question, but how do you…"

"Like an elephant motor boated me."

Bonnie attempted to cover up her chuckle with a cough. "I should get you some water so you can take another pill."

She attempted to climb out of bed but Damon grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Stop running away from me," he growled lowly. "We need to talk."

Swallowing thickly, Bonnie nodded. As much as she may have wanted to avoid this conversation she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. Damon deserved to know why he got his ass kicked, spent four hours in the hospital, and was now holed up in his family's condo.

Fear was plainly itched on Bonnie's face from what Damon could tell, but he was going to surge ahead. "Who was that guy?"

Bonnie pinched her lips.

Her silence irritated him and his grip on her arm may have tightened slightly. "Who was that asshole, Bonnie?"

"Some guy from my past," she answered deliberately vaguely.

"Name?"

"Brady," she whispered.

"Brady what?"

It wasn't too long ago that she actually learned his last name. "Brady McIntyre."

"How well do you know him?"

"Not well," Bonnie avoided making eye contact.

"I am in a lot of pain right now, Bonnie so now is not the time to drag this shit out, beat around the bush, and play games with me. Why are you protecting him?"

"I'm not."

"Then tell me how you know him."

Bonnie sighed. Her throat was closing in. "I met him in Virginia."

"And?"

"He was a cop."

Damon's eyes bulged. "A cop?" he questioned dubiously and felt his blood pressure spike. He got into a fight with a cop? Oh, yeah he was going to jail.

"_Was_," Bonnie stressed emphatically. "He's not anymore."

Damon relaxed minutely. "That dude is twice your age, Bon. Was he a family friend? Did he used to date your mom? Was he a mentor or something?"

"He was never my friend or mentor," Bonnie's nostrils flared. "He doesn't know my mom. She doesn't know he exists. I-I met him when I was fifteen. He…he busted me for stealing."

A dark eyebrow shot up to Damon's hairline. Bonnie was into five-finger discounts? "He caught you stealing?"

"Well…I was friends with these girls and we would crash parties that the rich kids at our school threw, and we'd steal whatever we could hoc for a price. He busted me with stolen merchandise, but he didn't catch me in the act of stealing."

Damon laughed sardonically. "So in your former life which was only a year ago you were a juvenile delinquent?"

Bonnie said nothing in defense of her prior criminal background.

"All right, so he busts you for stealing and I'm assuming he never arrested you?"

"No."

"So he cut some kind of deal, then?"

"I guess you could say that."

"What was the deal?"

"I don't want to talk about that," Bonnie scratched her arm something she did when she was nervous and felt like she was about to break out into hives.

Damon saw the conversation was making Bonnie uncomfortable but he wasn't exactly in a generous mood to back off. "You gotta give me something here, Bonnie. What was the deal between you? Is it currently ongoing? Is that why he's here in California?"

Viridian eyes glowered at him. "I don't know why he's in California. Brady and…he…nothing is going on between us."

"But there was?" Damon prodded.

"I don't want to talk about this!"

"This guy nearly broke my nose, gave me a concussion, attacked me for no gotdamn reason, Bonnie! I need to know why."

"Then ask him!"

"No I'm asking you!"

"He raped me!" she screamed.

Silence and eye blinks followed.

Someone just pushed Damon stark naked out into the Arctic cold. That was only moments before he was plummeting to earth's fiery core.

It was out. Her secret of all secrets. Bonnie didn't want to look at Damon to see if he believed her, or accuse her of leading on a grown man in order to get herself out of possible legal trouble.

"Jesus," Damon whispered.

Shivering, Bonnie brought her legs up and tucked her knees into her chest. "For four months, three days out of the week he'd pick me up after school, take me back to his apartment, and we'd have sex. He told me that everything between us would be consensual, that he'd never force me to be with him. I _never_ wanted to be with him. I _never_ wanted to lose my virginity to him. He waited until I turned sixteen before he made his move," she smiled shakily. "Every time we were together he'd coerce me until I was wet, and then we would have sex. Some days I enjoyed it. Some days I tricked myself into thinking it was much better to be with him than to be with some guy who would blab to all his friends how I was."

Damon wanted to reach over and pull Bonnie into his arms, but he was scared to touch her. Tears clung to her bottom eyelashes before dropping and rolling down her cheek. He had never felt more sad or enraged for a person in his entire life, and all Damon could think about was getting his hands on Brady and thoroughly beat the shit and the pedophilia out of him. Still that wouldn't have been enough.

For a second Damon thought of the way he treated the girls he bedded. Everyone he had been with wanted to be with him, but there were times he'd have to use a little more persuasion to get what he wanted. Did his actions make him any better than Brady? Was he a different type of rapist in that he used his charm, good looks, and occasionally money to get girls into bed who might not have wanted to be with him a hundred percent, but went with the flow? His stomach coiled and bubbled as his pulse pounded maddeningly.

"He turned me into his child whore," Bonnie sobbed. "He was never rough with me until one day something changed," and so did the timbre of her voice. It deepened and emotionally Damon could tell Bonnie was distancing herself from her own past as a defense mechanism. "Brady was into bondage. He would sometimes tie me up, handcuff me, but not to the point where he bruised my skin or caused discomfort. But one day, I guess he might have gotten in trouble at work, he just…something was different. In the way he talked to me he just ordered me around like a prostitute. Once I was naked and tied up, he took a strap to me. He beat me so bad I couldn't sit for a week."

"_Fuck_…" Damon whispered and was having a difficult time remaining on the bed.

Bonnie continued as if she didn't hear Damon. "I faked a stomach virus to get out of going to school. After that I only saw him one time where he tried to offer me a watered down apology, and then he disappeared. I didn't see him again until the night we went out after the wedding. He works for Salvatore Industries now."

"The hell he does! His ass is fired and then I'm going to personally make sure his _ass_ becomes a revolving door in San Quentin."

"If anyone finds out about what I did in Virginia…" Bonnie started but Damon pressed his finger up to her lips to silence her.

"I don't care what you used to do and it doesn't matter nor does it justify the way that asshat manipulated, and violated you, Bonnie. He raped and beat you. He can't get away with that," Damon cupped her cheeks and wiped her tears away. "It's okay. I understand why you're scared, but I'll take care of it."

Bonnie couldn't say how long she waited for someone to say that to her. That they would fix her problems because for so long she behaved as if she didn't have any beyond the typical drama that came with being a teenager. It was a nice gesture for Damon who really didn't know her, but now he _did_ know her to want to step in and right a colossal wrong. However, stepping aside and relinquishing control when for months she didn't have any, Bonnie wasn't ready to do that. She never saw herself as a victim or someone who needed to be rescued. She took care of those around her, but the one time she needed someone in her corner, no one had been there and it terrified her, but it was a prison of her own making. Her silence kept others from interceding on her behalf. Bonnie had put on her strong suit and endured it because that's what Grams said all Bennett women did.

They endured.

If she could make Brady feel a tenth of what she felt, powerless, helpless, and self-loathing then in her eyes justice would prevail. Nevertheless, she wanted the maggot to suffer in the worse way imaginable. And something told her Damon's imagination was probably more creative than hers.

"It's not your problem to fix," Bonnie retorted.

"You're my girl and I look out for my girl."

Warmth spread through Bonnie but that wasn't the right reaction to have. She wasn't Damon Salvatore's girl. She was his sister—stepsister—but sister nonetheless.

They lied down facing each other.

"What happened to you wasn't your fault."

"I know that," Bonnie sniffled. "But I felt like I brought it on myself for what I was doing."

"Again, not your fault. Brady knew better and abused his authority. You had no control over that. It goes without saying we live in a fucked up world, but it would be an even more fucked up world if the punishment for stealing is being raped." Pause. "Why did you turn to theft?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I was bored. My life in Virginia was one big ball of predictability. Go to school, help my mom out at her store, visit with Grams, and then it was time to go back to school. I wanted extra money in my pocket so I stole things."

Damon knew in theory what it was like not to have the financial means to do what you wanted, but from what he knew of Abby's business it was fairly successful and afforded a comfortable living for she and Bonnie. Apparently it wasn't enough for Bonnie who turned to petty crime to line her pockets and alleviate boredom. Damon had done his fair share of foul shit in his seventeen years. Went though his phase of kleptomania as well, but it was just another fad with him.

"You're in a family now of Italian men who know how to get even," Damon brushed a strand of Bonnie's hair behind her ear.

"I just don't want my mom to know. It'll break her heart and she's been through so much."

Damon wouldn't doubt the truth of her words but he was going to assume Abby had never gone through something her daughter lived through.

"You have my word, Bon, I'm not gonna tell her." Pause. "Thank you for trusting me with the truth," Damon intoned.

Bonnie remained silent. "You're the only one who knows. Not even my best guy friend knows the truth, and I tell him everything."

Damon kissed Bonnie's forehead. "Let's go back to sleep."

"You should get some food in you," Bonnie suggested and then remembered there was nothing in the condo to eat. "There's no food here. Forgot. I'm going to get you some water and your prescription," she climbed out of bed and Damon didn't stop her.

Her phone began vibrating before she slipped out of the room. Retrieving it she saw it was Stefan calling. Sighing heavily Bonnie answered and closed the door to the room after her departure.

"Hey, Stefan."

"Hey, how are you? How's Damon?"

"He's in a lot of pain but he'll be fine…eventually. I'm sorry I've been dodging you."

"I understand. Damon needed you. Are you guys home?"

"No, we're still in LA at his dad's condo. I hate to do this to you again, Stefan, but I was just about to give Damon his medication so he can sleep."

"Bon…okay. I know Damon is hurt, and you're helping to take care of him, I understand that, but I feel like we haven't seen or spent time together in a while. Is something going on?"

"No," Bonnie was vehement. "I mean…I've been having some issues but they're personal."

"You know you can talk to me."

"I want to, but I can't, Stefan. I'm sorry."

"Why can't you? Do you think I won't be able to relate?"

"That's not…it's…personal."

Pause.

"So…moving forward are we just going to be friends who occasionally hang out, talk on the phone, run into each other in the halls at school, and that's it?"

Bonnie didn't want to let go of her friendship with Stefan but she understood he was at the point where he wanted more, and she was at a crossroads herself. A crossroad that unfortunately didn't involve him or point in his direction.

"For now that'll be best."

"Just friends then?"

"Just friends."

There was a long pause. "All right. So I guess I'll talk to you later, _friend._"

Stefan hung up and it made Bonnie's spirit plunge even farther into hell.

Bonnie had two choices to make: either she could dwell on it or push it to the back of her mind because there was nothing she could do right this second. She went with option number two, got Damon his meds and a bottle of water, and reentered the bedroom.

"If only you had a nurse's outfit," Damon lamented as he swallowed a Percocet and wolfed down half the bottle of water.

Snorting, Bonnie climbed back into bed and snuggled under the covers and turned away from Damon. Not seconds later she felt him spooning her and at first Bonnie was inclined to wiggle away, but then settled against him. After what she shared she did feel as exposed as a nerve.

"Hey, Bonnie?" Damon said.

"What?"

"What do you want for your birthday?"

Twenty-four hours ago that was the easiest question in the world for Bonnie to answer, but now, she actually had to stop and think.

"I don't know, Damon. I just know I want to wake up and never see Brady McIntyre ever again."

Tucking his chin between the space where her shoulder and neck intersected, Damon silently vowed he'd do what he could to make sure her dream came true.

* * *

Hours later when Damon woke up still experiencing teeth gritting pain, it was the middle of the afternoon. The condo was sweltering and he wondered what Bonnie set the temperature to. Climbing out of bed at the speed of a sloth, he made his way to the bathroom, grimaced at his reflection, relieved himself, and filled up the garden tub so he could soak his aching body.

While he waited impatiently for the water to fill up the tub, he snuck back into the master suite, and wondered if he had his cell phone. More than likely he didn't considering all he had were the clothes on his back. Damon picked up the cordless off the night table and started punching in numbers. The first call he made was to his uncle to find out what was being done about that _puta _Brady.

"Hey," Damon went back into the bathroom.

"You sound better."

"Yeah if only I looked it. I know I don't even have to ask but I'm going to anyways…is he fired?"

"I talked to Brady and he said he heard a girl screaming, went to go check it out, and saw a guy roughing up a chick, and reacted. He claims he didn't know it was you."

"Bullshit!" Damon enunciated every single syllable and even added a few. "You know I would never attack Bonnie or any girl. That's not my style." Pause. "I want his ass gone, Unc."

"I know, Damon and I have let Brady go. It's up to you to decide to press charges. Your dad is furious and wants his head on a platter."

"Then give the old man what he wants!" Damon began to rummage around in the bathroom looking for a spare toothbrush and toothpaste. He had more than cottonmouth. His breath could curl eyelashes.

"Damon," Mason said sharply. "I know you…let me handle this, all right."

Score, he found a toothbrush still in the package and a fresh tube of paste and went to work, but paused. "What are you trying to imply?"

"You know what. How's Bonnie doing?"

"She's…she's phenomenonal."

"Phenomenonal, hun? Don't think I've ever heard you say that about any girl you banged or thought was pretty."

"I'm changing my ways."

"Yeah just don't do anything dumb while developing your character. Take it easy, nephew."

"Same to you, Uncle Mase."

Hanging up, Damon scrubbed his teeth, gums, and tongue, rinsed, peeled out of his clothes, and carefully lowered his five foot ten frame into the full tub.

Bonnie wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up but her head was pounding, her stomach was two seconds from registering a 9.8 on the Richter scale, and her bladder was overly full. Clearing her throat she looked to her immediately left to see the spot next to her empty.

"Damon!"

"I'm in here."

"Oh," she rolled out of bed.

"I need some help."

"Okay, I'm coming." Bonnie took two steps before she heard her cell buzzing. Rushing to answer it her stomach bottomed out. It was Grams. "Hey Grams."

"Don't you hey Grams me, missy. Do you have any idea what time it is? I was expecting you to come home _last _night. Where the hell are you, Bonnie?"

Making her way to the bathroom, Bonnie turned the knob. "I'm in LA. At Giuseppe's condo. I'm with Damon and we're…" Bonnie couldn't finish her sentence because…

Damon was naked as the day he entered into the world where certain body parts were smaller. _Much _smaller.

Blinking, her jaw collapsed to the floor while Damon stared at her like everything was perfectly fine, honky-dory, as if standing nude before her was a frequent occurrence. And maybe it was in his dreams but this was reality, and relatively speaking Bonnie wished she had 3-D vision.

"Bonnie!" Grams railed in her ears.

"Grams…I'm fine. We'll be home later. Love you," click.

Damon, straight face, held out a towel towards his shocked stepsis. "Can you dry off my legs? It hurts when I try to bend over."

Bonnie's feet of their own volition began to shuffle closer to Damon where her eyes ping ponged around his body but yet somehow managed to always come back to his slightly erect phallus.

Taking the towel from Damon, Bonnie stared at the task in front of her.

Their eyes met and Damon gently grabbed Bonnie by the shoulders. "There's something I've wanted to do since last night, but after everything we talked about I don't think it's appropriate."

Saliva pooled in the bottom of Bonnie's mouth. "We shouldn't. I'm still…raw."

"It hurts to talk," Damon added.

Silence engulfed them. The air became heavy with tension. Leaning on her toes, Bonnie craned her neck but stopped short of kissing Damon.

"When your lip is healed…come find me."

Damon lowered his head until his mouth hovered over hers. "You bet your ass I will."

Smiling tremulously, Bonnie took a step back and pondered where to start first.

Chapter end.

**A/N: I feel like I'm becoming more of tease with these "almost" lemony moments between Bamon. My choice to hold back (this chapter) really stems from the secret Bonnie revealed to Damon. I thought it would be kind of in poor taste to have those two fooling around after she had to recount what happened to her with Brady. Bamon they're getting closer but still have a lot of obstacles to face. So what exactly does Damon have in mind for Mr. Brady? We shall see. And I apologize I didn't make Stefonnie's relationship all that clear in earlier chapters. They were dating but not officially girlfriend/boyfriend. Her conversation with Stefan doesn't necessarily spell the end b/c you know how high school romances are. One minute you're hot the next minute you're not. And I thought it would be awesome for Bonnie to get in on the fight and get in some jabs as a small form of payback so yea BAMF Bonnie! Let me know what you guys think. Until next time, love you!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH, KITTENS for leaving me your thoughts for the last chapter! Please keep them coming. The louder you are the more it inspires me to write to keep y'all happy. Here is the latest. If panties are still dry, and hearts still beat regularly after reading this chapter I'm doing something wrong. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Nicotine. Damon had stopped smoking a year and some change ago, but he picked up the habit again as he wrapped his mauve colored lips around the butt of the cigarette, and sucked in that toxic yet addictive blend of carcinogenics into his lungs. White, billowy smoke filtered through his lips and nostrils and diminished the air quality surrounding him. He stood with his back against the brick wall of an apartment complex in east LA. Traffic cruised down the street the only sign of life in this part of the City of Angels, but Damon kept his attention on the gum and phlegm stained pavement in front of him.

The sound of a voice haggling with someone and footsteps made his head jerk up. Oceanic eyes crinkled around the edges while Damon continued to smoke. He ran his tongue over his nicotine flavored lips and stared at the man approaching him who was dressed in nondescript clothing. Damon had dressed in a similar fashion as not to draw unwanted attention. Needless of what he did, he would always stick out. Even with a face with fading bruises and an unruly five o'clock shadow, he couldn't diminish the alluring color of his eyes, the Roman symmetry of his face. It was his curse and his saving grace.

Damon only frequented this part of LA when he needed a favor. A favor that couldn't be traced back to him. He continued to remain slumped against the wall as the man stopped and mimicked his actions.

"I have an appointment so I'm going to have to call you back," the man said into his smart phone and hung up abruptly. He fixed his hooded blue eyes on Damon and infinitesimally nodded his head. "You have it?"

The dark-haired teenager made a restless motion with his shoulders. "Depends. Can you make it clean?"

"I haven't been caught yet although I am on the FBI's most wanted list."

"Good for you. Your mother must be so proud."

The man snorted. "Can I bum a smoke?"

Damon dug in his back pocket and retrieved the entire pack. He handed it over plus the lighter. Pulling one last time on the cigarette, Damon flicked it towards a nearby gutter.

"Thanks," the man stabbed a cigarette eagerly between his lips and fired up the end. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled in nothing short of ecstasy. "What do you need this time?"

"I need someone located who's fallen off the grid. Three thousand cash for whatever you can find. You get the other seven once the job is done."

The man bobbed his head in agreement. He lived for cyber-hacking and ruining everyday Joe's lives. It was better and way more lucrative than working a nine to five especially when there was a CEO or business owner looking to take out the competition without going through legalities to obtain official documents. He had done business with Damon in the past and knew he was good for the money.

Damon turned to the side, dug in the pocket of his hoodie and withdrew a brown paper bag. Wordlessly he exchanged it with Slater, the best hacker this side of the Mississippi. If the NSA and Homeland Security couldn't find someone, Slater could.

Slater didn't bother to look in the bag to make sure all the money was there, simply tucked it in the back of his jeans and pulled his jacket over it. He inclined his head to Damon.

"Instructions are in there, too," Damon pointed out.

"All right. Come see me in a week."

"Fine," Damon intoned disinterestedly. "And remember…_nothing _gets leaked back to me."

"You know discretion is my number one rule. This never happened."

"And I've never seen you before in my life."

Slater looked down both ends of the street. "How's Katherine?" he asked on the sly.

Damon smiled. "Still not interested in you. _Ciao_."

"Later."

Heading on foot to his car that was parked three blocks away, Damon stuffed his hands in his pockets. Fall in California wasn't how it was anywhere else. The days were mild almost balmy and the nights were cool. One never needed more than a thick sweater and a light jacket. Occasionally there would be days he'd have to break out his down parka, but those were rare occasions. He didn't have a favorite season, to be honest, but he wasn't exactly a fan of cold weather either.

Climbing behind the wheel of his car, Damon fired up the engine and made his way back to Catalina Island.

Robin Thicke's crooning voice soothed the tension from Damon's shoulders, and shifted the trajectory of his thoughts to Bonnie. The transaction which just took place was inspired by her after all. And though thinking about her was nothing new it was a welcomed distraction. Damon wouldn't say that things had improved between them, or that things were different. They were to a certain extent, but now he found himself being extra cautious around her. He still flirted with Bonnie shamelessly, but as far as touching went he hadn't been brave enough to make a move.

Now knowing the truth of what happened between her and that asshole Brady, the last thing Damon wanted to do was give her anymore reasons to be skittish and distrusting of men. Nor did he want to push his sexual agenda on her. Damon wanted Bonnie to come to him when she was ready, but at this rate he was liable to die an old man without knowing exactly what she tasted and felt like. Ideally that's what he should want considering they were family, but every time he looked at her, talked to her, spent time with her it was getting harder and harder for him to remember he couldn't exactly pursue her how he would any other girl.

And Bonnie wasn't just any other girl. She was lots of things. Going down a list of her attributes would mount to being a waste of valuable time; however, it was a practice he indulged in regardless.

That past Sunday, he had spoken on the phone with his dad, giving Giuseppe the abbreviated and edited version of events after corroborating his story with Bonnie so no one would be able to poke holes in their alibi. It went without saying that his _papino _was livid once he heard their accounts and promised to pursue some kind of legal action against Brady, calling in favors of friends he had in the police department and the District Attorney's office.

Brady must have been clairvoyant and foresaw that Giuseppe would try to bring Thor's hammer down on his head. He skipped town and no one knew where he was.

If anyone could find him, Damon knew without a shadow of a doubt that person was Slater. But finding Brady would only be the start for what he had in mind for that motherfucker. Damon snorted at his Uncle Mason's suggestion that he stay out of it, but the retired surfer should have known that little piece of advice would only go in one ear and out the other. Damon was hip deep into this and there was no way he would simply sit on the sidelines and do nothing.

Besides, he owed it to Bonnie and to any other girl Brady may have taken advantage of and raped to nail this fucker's dick on a wall, and he wasn't going to stop until _his _justice had been served.

* * *

**Catalina Island, California**

"I still can't believe you broke up with Stefan."

"I didn't break up with Stefan," Bonnie argued as she wiggled out of her uniform skirt. She was on the phone with Sarah. "Stefan and I weren't exclusive."

"You were exclusive enough. You don't know how many girls tried to get with him before you showed up. It was like he took one look at you and _bam _dude was sprung. Within a week you two were walking around like a married couple."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and began to unbutton her shirt. "It didn't happen that fast."

"Sure it didn't. Tell yourself anything to lessen the guilt of trading one Salvatore for the other."

Hearing that gave Bonnie pause. She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Have you looked at this week's edition of _US Weekly_? There's an interesting spread on page twenty-five."

"I haven't gotten around to it. Hold on," Bonnie dropped her phone on the bed, and then sprinted across the room to retrieve the magazine off her vanity. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, Bonnie flipped through the glossy pages until she located the one Sarah mentioned. Bonnie's chartreuse eyes ballooned.

There she was on Santa Monica Boulevard hugging Damon in one picture and in the one below that he was holding her hand as they crossed the street. Bonnie began to read the little blurb underneath that failed to give an accurate description of what they had been doing that day.

"_More than brother and sister? Damon Salvatore, son of engineering tycoon Giuseppe Salvatore was caught getting cozy with his new stepsister Bonnie Bennett. The two were spotted hugging and looking more like young lovers than family on October 17__th__ taking what appeared to be a lovely stroll after eating a late lunch at trendy restaurant…" _the girl in question stopped reading and then picked up her phone. "I don't believe this shit. Damon had taken me to get my license and then we celebrated afterwards. That's all that happened."

"Un-hun," Sarah muttered skeptically. "You two sure looked like you were on a date, and I don't know any siblings who hold hands."

"He was just leading me across the street because I was sending my mom a text, and he didn't want me to get run over. That's all. Is this the reason I was getting side-eyed today at school?"

"Probably. You really haven't been helping your case that there's nothing going on with you and Damon. People are still talking about the fight, and the fact that he manhandled you like a jealous boyfriend, on top of the fact you dropped Stefan like he had herpes or something," Sarah chortled.

Rubbing a hand over her forehead Bonnie couldn't believe this. It was one thing for rumors to circulate about the nature of her relationship with Damon around school, but having the paparazzi get involve and add their two cents into the mix, if her mom or Grams saw this they would probably put her on a plane back to Virginia.

Bonnie didn't want to return to Virginia. She was beginning to like living in California and not only that, it would ruin her plans. But lately Bonnie was wondering if she could still go through her end of the deal she struck. That was a moot point this late in the game because now she needed to worry about damage control.

Things between herself and Damon were…they were weird, Bonnie could admit that. He was still himself around her but Bonnie noticed that Damon had gotten a little more reserved and conservative. He didn't find creative ways to get her alone or touch her, and she knew why. She appreciated that he was trying to back off on the sexual innuendo and tension, yet there was a tiny, microscopic part of her that sort of missed it. Bonnie figured she was definitely crazy since the day she met Damon she tried to make it known that nothing inappropriate would ever happen between them.

Yet it had.

Everyday she thought of the way he kissed her when she snuck into his room to study. Maybe she went there intentionally knowing what would happen. And maybe she wanted it to happen. So many times in the past Bonnie had dated guys to replace the horrible memory of her past with Brady, and as soon as things would get heated, and hands and tongues would try to explore her body, she'd freak out and lie about being on her period, or proclaim not to be ready.

It wasn't until she opened up to Damon that Bonnie realized she had been traumatized, and no matter how much she liked a guy and wanted to be with him there was something holding her back, preventing her from going all the way. It wasn't that she didn't think her chosen suitor wouldn't measure up. Bonnie was just afraid that once again she'd find herself powerless, and at some guy's beck and call, and that her body would no longer belong to her, and her choices would cease to matter.

"What are you going to do about this, Bonnie especially if your mom sees it?"

Sarah's question startled Bonnie out of her reverie. The young girl shrugged despite the fact her friend couldn't see her action.

"I don't know. I'll just tell her the truth," for once Bonnie thought sardonically. "She knows how things can get taken out of context."

"All right there's that problem. What about school? I overheard a couple of girls saying they wanted to jump you."

Bonnie rolled her eyes—exasperated. Let them try. She carried mace and a straight razor in her purse for protection.

"Like they want to ruin their nose and boob job to try to scrap over Damon. Nothing is going on between me and him. Nothing," Bonnie reiterated for good measure.

"Stefan looked so miserable today," Sarah wasn't helping Bonnie feel any better.

The aggravated teen sighed brusquely. "He'll be fine. We're still friends. I still like him. I still want to talk to him from time to time."

"And that's not going to be enough for him. The winter formal is right around the corner. I thought you had agreed to go with him."

_Fuck, _Bonnie lamented. She had forgotten all about that. This conversation with Sarah wasn't helping her brainstorm to figure out a way to put a lid on this impending mess.

"I need to go," Bonnie said abruptly. "My mom is finally coming home tonight, and I need to get myself together."

"Okay," Sarah hesitated. "See you in school tomorrow, chica."

"All right. Bye," hanging up the phone, Bonnie stood up from the bed dressed in only her underwear. She looked down at that magazine.

Her mind drifted back to that day. Bonnie had been nervous like a hooker in church as she waited to take the written portion of her driver's exam. She had crammed in as many driving hours the state of California required with George, and Damon was gracious enough to let her use his Mercedes (which he rarely drove according to him) for the driving portion of the test.

Her stomach was a playground full of butterflies as she went through the eye exam, road sign test, and then finally her ass was planted in front of a computer to take the written part. She got four questions wrong which was the cut off, and then finally she was seated behind the wheel with the instructor, a man in his forties with a bald spot in the middle of his head, and funky breath.

Forty painstaking minutes later, Bonnie returned to the DMW, feeling sullen because she messed up on the three point turn, turning it into a four point turn since the side road the instructor told her to take was so gotdamn small she was afraid of hitting someone's mailbox.

It wasn't until she was back inside and sat down at the instructor's "desk" that he mumbled congratulations, and asked her to pick out a background for her license.

"I passed?" Bonnie asked in shock.

"Yep."

Giddy and euphoric Bonnie wanted to jump up and shout, but kept her composure, got her picture taken, and then as soon as she and Damon exited the DMW, she had jumped up into his arms wrapping her legs around him.

Bonnie had kissed her license since it was now her passport to independence. No more being chauffeured around, although that had been nice. No more bumming rides from friends and family. She could hop in her car, well she didn't have one yet, but Bonnie knew it was coming, but she could hop in her car and go wherever she wanted to go.

To celebrate on getting her license the first time around, which was almost virtually unheard of in California, Damon had taken Bonnie to Café D'Etoile. The second they left, they hugged once more and that's where the paparazzi got their candid shots.

That day had been innocent. A lot more innocent than Bonnie drying off Damon's legs while he stood before her in the buff. Her cheeks felt like they were going to catapult off her face they had been filled with so much blood, but other than that nothing racy had happened between them.

Changing into a pair of leggings and a loose fitting navy blue linen button down, Bonnie called Marcel. He would be here in three days for her birthday party, but she needed to talk to him _now_!

Marcel answered on the second to last ring before the call would have been routed to his voice mail.

"Hey, baby girl."

"Hey Marcel. Is now a bad time to talk?"

"I have a study group I'm already running half an hour late for. But I have time for you. What's up?"

"I have a problem," Bonnie began and then filled Marcel in on her embrace with Damon emblazoned for all the world to see, then transitioned to what happened at the fight, excluding her history with Brady. Bonnie was going to tell him but she wanted to do so in person. "And now Brady is gone, and I don't know how to feel about that."

"Damn that's fucked up, but I'm sure he'll be found soon enough."

Bonnie shook her head in the negative. Brady had been in the army before he became a police officer so she was sure he knew all the tricks of the trade in making himself disappear.

"I wish I had your confidence, Marcel."

"What aren't you telling me? I can hear it in your voice. You're holding something back."

That made Bonnie smile ruefully. Marcel was one of the few people who could boast about knowing her well. "There is more and I want to tell you, just not now. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"You wanted me to tell you everything will be okay and it will. How are you going to explain your situation with Damon?"

Bonnie bit her lip. That was getting trickier each and every single day.

"There is no situation and therefore nothing to explain. We've come to an understanding and I know he'll have my back."

"Un-hun."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Marcel began, "the boy took a beating for you, and now he's pretty in your eyes. And you're thinking about giving him the pussy. Don't do it."

"Why not?" Bonnie snapped in irritation and then realized how it sounded.

"Because Bonnie, Abby would lose her shit and banish your ass to a nunnery. Not to mention you could never have a _real _relationship with this dude who's supposed to be your brother. But if you're about that life then help yourself. However, I know you and you aren't cut out for something like that. You're a good girl, Bonnie."

Bonnie laughed dryly. "No, I'm not. You don't know _everything _about me, Marcel."

"True, but I know enough. That's fire you don't want to play with, Bon, but if you need to get it out of your system, then do what you have to do. And you know where to find me when things blow up in your face. Look, we can pick this up later. I need to move my ass clear across town."

"Fine. I'll see you this Friday."

"Love you, girl."

"Un-hun," Bonnie muttered and then cracked a tiny smile. "Love you, too."

As soon as she hung up, Bonnie received a text from George telling her he was pulling up to the estate with her mom and Giuseppe. Her heart began to speed as Bonnie slipped on her loafers and then booked it the foyer to welcome her mom back home.

* * *

"So for once the rumors were true."

Damon halted as he eyed his sister sitting at his desk, feet kicked up and housed in a pair of haute couture black pumps. Shutting the door, Damon trudged up the steps not in any particular rush or mood to deal with Katherine. Lately she had been spending more time away from the house and in the city where he could only take a guess at her activities. She worked for a floundering fashion designer who was going nowhere fast, and the last he heard, Katherine had been seeing a married—although in his defense legally separated judge—but knowing what a rolling stone she was, that relationship probably already died and he missed the funeral.

"What rumors?" Damon inquired listlessly. He took off his frameless glasses. His vision had been shit since the fight days ago, and he had to blow the dust off his prescription glasses, which he didn't mind. They made him look studious and debonair, and of course several girls and even a few of his female teachers took notice.

Running a finger from the hollow space at the base of her throat, between her exposed cleavage down to the button of her blazer, Katherine stared at Damon. She hadn't been around much, deciding it would be easier on her bullshit tolerance level if she stayed with friends in the city rather than run into that old hag, Bonnie's precious geriatric grandmother. So colored her surprised when she saw Instagram pictures of her brother badly bruised and nearly beaten beyond recognition. It didn't take Katherine long to piece together what happened and of course that little twit Bonnie had to be in the center of it.

Katherine lifted a superior eyebrow in the air. "You were beaten within inches of your life."

Damon grimaced. "It wasn't nearly as that dramatic or dire, Katherine," he parked his tush on the arm of his black leather sofa. "I got him good," he leered. And he had. Damon learned that he dislocated Brady's arm and ruptured his spleen. "But you were no where to be found," he added darkly.

Katherine swung her legs off the desk, stood, and approached her brother like a leopard on the prowl. "I take it from your attitude you don't care that I was worried about you. You hurt my feelings, Damon."

"You don't have feelings, Kat. I'm surprised to see you here, though."

The brunette smiled and stood between Damon's legs. She played with the collar of his shirt, and eyed his fading bruises. She shook her head. It was a crime to hurt a face like Damon's. She leaned forward and kissed the corner of his lip. Damon gave no outward reaction.

"You're not the only one," Katherine put a modicum of space between herself and Damon. "Dad comes back tonight and I wanted to be here to welcome him home."

"Oh, really? When did you turn into an upstanding daughter?"

Katherine hunched a shoulder. "It hasn't slipped my attention I'm still on his shit list. On top of that I need to make nice and atone for my sins," she grinned wickedly.

"Dad might be a lot of things but he's not an idiot. He'll see through your act and send your tight little ass bouncing across the driveway."

"So you noticed," Katherine purred and then turned to her side, "my ass?"

Damon took a quick peek not really impressed. He shrugged causing Katherine to pout.

"What have you been doing with yourself lately?" he changed the subject.

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that," Katherine moved away and started pacing Damon's room, occasionally fingering objects. She flashed her doe eyes at her brother. "We haven't hung out. Just the two of us. You're always so busy, and I'm always working. I miss my brother."

"Really? I could tell by all the text messages, phone calls, and voice mails you left me."

"All right so I've been a little neglectful. A girl's got to eat nowadays since she's flirting with being cut off. Let's go away this weekend," the buxom brunette suggested.

Damon pushed off the couch and headed to this desk. "Can't. Bonnie's party is this Friday."

Katherine scrunched up her nose and then deadpanned, "So?"

"So, I'm going and that's the end of this stupid conversation."

Logging into his Mac, Damon began to effectually ignore Katherine hoping she'd get the message that he wanted to be alone, wanted her to go away, and take her skankiness with her. Seeing her again was kind of a kick to the system and a flashing billboard of the guy he used to be. The kind of guy who used to be wrapped around Katherine's manicured finger, and did her bidding even if what she asked him to do was morally questionable.

Katherine slithered up behind Damon and began to massage his shoulders. She felt him flinch slightly at her touch and she frowned. He loved it when she would submerge him with affection and attention. Now it appeared he didn't even want her to touch him as if her taint would rub off on him. Damon was changing and she didn't like it nor what it symbolized.

"What's going on with you?"

Damon sighed. "Nothing, Katherine."

"You've barely looked at me since I've been in your room."

"I have a lot on my plate and on my mind right now. Don't take it personal because it has nothing to do with you."

"Then who does it have to do with, Damon?" Katherine walked around the chair on sat on the edge of the desk. "I can take many stabs in the dark, but I love living in suspense so I'll wait until the other shoe drops." Pause. "I didn't tell you that I went to Milan for a week on a business trip. You'll never guess who I ran into."

"Who?"

"Christiana Markus."

Damon's fingers, which had been flying over the keyboard—stilled.

Christiana Markus had been the veritable love of his teenaged life, the only girl who had done the impossible and tamed his ass. They had been the quintessential bad boy meets good girl who changed his ways, but then in the middle of the night Christiana and her parents moved across seas bringing an anticlimactic end to their relationship.

Damon didn't truly begin whoring until Christiana "Tiana" as she was affectionately called by those close to her, jumped across the Atlantic and planted roots in Western Europe. There was no way in the world the two of them could have had a long-distance relationship. Hell, Damon couldn't even keep a relationship going with someone who lived in San Diego, so there was no way in the world things would have worked with Christiana living an entire ocean and several continents away.

At the time they were together, Damon wanted to label what they had as puppy love, and perhaps it was. He just remembered being obscenely possessive and jealous over her. It had almost reached the point Tiana threatened to take a restraining order out on his ass. Luckily things never got to that point, but the fact it even went that far scared him. He had loved everything there was to love about that girl. From her smile, to her dimples, to the sound of her voice, to the way she moved her body, how she could turn his shitty day into a glorious one simply by listening to him rant, and then screwing his brains out like there was no tomorrow.

They shared the same likes and dislikes and were able to turn each other on to things they never thought they would like. Tiana had been that positive influence on him, and the minute she left, that's when he became a true child of debauchery.

Damon gulped and shook off the chill of that particular skeleton from his closet. He was burning with questions and curiosity. Had she asked about him? Did she want to see him?

Katherine noticed Damon's slightly dazed expression, smiled, and retrieved a small folded piece of paper from her jean pocket. She slid it across the desk until it crashed into his wrist.

"Her phone number and email address. If you're wondering—yes, she's still extremely beautiful, sickeningly sweet, and here's the cherry on top…she misses you, Damon. I remember the two of you used to be so nauseating, but Tiana was the _best _thing, outside of myself of course, to ever happen to you."

Damon licked his lips and glared at that piece of paper containing her information.

"She's not seeing anyone," Katherine persisted. "She made sure I knew that just so I could tell you."

Tiana was still single? There had to be something wrong with the world, Damon thought and then shook his head. It didn't matter. She was off living her life in Europe and he was here in California.

The buzz of the PA system caught both teens attention. "Yeah, George?" Damon said thankful for the reprieve.

"Your father and his new bride are home."

"All right."

Katherine clapped her hands in faux cheer. "Pucker up those lips and let's go kiss some ass."

"After you," Damon followed behind Katherine. His eyes betrayed him and locked on that paper before he left his bedroom.

As they descended the stairs, Damon smiled as he watched Bonnie fly out of nowhere and nearly tackle her mother. He had never been that happy to see either of his parents when Giuseppe would return from a business trip, or when he was reunited with his mom. His family was not traditionally affectionate. His dad would shake his hand and give him a pat on the back whereas his mom would kiss his cheek. That was the extent of the affection he was showed as a child and now as a burgeoning adult.

Bonnie clung to her mother like a baby Koala. Spending nearly a month apart had been the longest they had been separated, and though Bonnie enjoyed the breathing room, she did miss having her mom around.

"I guess you missed me since my ribs are nice and sore," Abby joked and then hugged Sheila.

"I did," Bonnie replied and then threw herself at Giuseppe who was caught off guard. "Sorry," Bonnie muttered sheepishly the minute she unwrapped her arms from around his neck.

Katherine's lip at curled as she watched her adoptive father blush at Bonnie's display. Quickly she kissed Giuseppe and then tried her very best to smile at Abby who didn't move a muscle to try to hug her.

"Katherine," Abby greeted.

"Hey," the girl in question muttered. "Welcome back," she tacked on as not to be seen as a total bitch.

Damon, ever the charismatic swept his new stepmom off her feet in a bear hug surprising the hell out of Abby.

"Get your hands off my wife, boy," Giuseppe ordered though there was definite mirth dancing in his eyes.

"You're lookin' good, pop," Damon complimented taking note his dad was flirting with looking like a Guido. He was extremely tan.

"Thanks, son. You look much better than what I expected to see. We'll talk about that later."

Damon didn't misunderstand what his dad was trying to say and simply nodded.

Bonnie flicked her eyes between father and son and felt a nervous pang go through her. Holding on to Abby's hand the family made their way to the dining room to have dinner.

Damon sat next to Bonnie, but she could tell something was bothering him. He looked preoccupied and was being usually quiet. While Abby and Giuseppe filled in the blanks of their adventures, Bonnie leaned over and said to Damon, "Are you okay?"

Damon, who had been pushing his veggies around on his plate, snapped his head up and looked at Bonnie. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

He nodded and went back to _not _eating his food.

Katherine sniggered and took a sip of her sparkling water. She loved throwing monkey wrenches into people's carefully laid out plans. In her honest opinion she didn't really give a shit about Christiana Markus but figured she was _better _suited for Damon since Tiana shared the same privileged lifestyle as they did, and knew the rules of the game. Bonnie was shabby compared to Tiana, and hopefully Damon would come to his senses and realize that.

The second dinner was finished, everyone convened in the entertainment room to look at pictures of Maldives. Katherine conveniently got missing. Bonnie ooh, and aww, asked questions but her mind was truly centered on Damon who asked to be excused just five minutes later.

"Come see me in the morning before you head off to school, Damon," Giuseppe reminded his son.

"Yeah, okay, fine whatever," Damon mumbled and left.

Bonnie reminded behind. She showed her mom and Giuseppe her driver's license and recounted that memorable day. Abby regretted the fact she missed one of Bonnie's milestones.

"I'm tired so I'm going to call it a night," Bonnie announced and offered up kisses on the cheek to the adults assembled.

The second she was dressed in her PJs, Bonnie went to Damon's room. She knocked but didn't hear a reply. That didn't stop her from entering his boudoir.

It was dark inside and while Bonnie's eyes adjusted, she carefully walked up the short flight of stairs and then made her way to the foot of his bed.

"Damon, are you asleep?"

There was movement, the sound of his sheets rustling as they were thrown off the top of his head. "No."

"Can we talk?"

"About what?"

"Something is bothering you. You barely said anything at dinner."

"So," he muttered petulantly.

"Is it…is it me?"

"No."

"So what's lodged up your ass?"

He sat up then and despite the darkness Bonnie saw him glaring at her. "I'm tired, Bonnie and I want to go to sleep."

"I can stay."

There was a pregnant pause and then Bonnie saw Damon motion for her hop on in. She did and wiggled under the sheets yet kept a considerable amount of distance between them.

"You think this is a good idea now that your mom is back?" Damon asked. "She might want to tuck you in."

Bonnie snorted. "I'm not a little girl and I don't need tucking in. I know my mom's routine whenever she takes a trip. She unpacks everything, grabs a bowl of ice cream, watches a movie, and then crashes."

"So you say."

"Did you know there're pictures of us hugging and holding hands in _US Weekly?_"

"Yeah. So?"

Bonnie pursed her lips at Damon's monosyllabic responses. "Are you seriously not going to tell me what's wrong with you after _everything _I shared with you?"

Damon sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bonnie was right. What she shared with him took guts and really she didn't have to tell him shit, but she did, and here he was being cold and indifferent after learning his ex was out there somewhere asking about him and leaving behind a way to contact her.

All throughout dinner Damon had thought of Tiana, but he also thought about Bonnie. In many ways they were alike, but Tiana was truly an angel—that might be a bit of a stretch, but as far as he knew she hadn't broken any laws, she hardly cursed, didn't drink or do drugs, the only flaw on her ledger would be her relationship with him. He hadn't deserved Tiana then and he sure as hell didn't deserve her now not with his reputation.

But where exactly did that leave Bonnie? She was here lying next to him in bed like a piece of forbidden fruit, a temptation, and he was just days away from losing his brains over this chick.

"You're not the only one whose past wants to resurface," Damon admitted. "Katherine ran into my ex-girlfriend in Milan."

"Oh," was the only thing Bonnie could think to say and as soon as she said it she felt Damon becoming distant. "You were in love with her?"

"Pretty much. I know I'm a man-whore but really all of that happened _after _my ex took off. I'm just surprised, that's all."

Bonnie knew there was more to the story but she wasn't exactly in the mood to hear it. She never saw Damon as someone capable of being in a serious relationship, but to hear regret in his voice, and longing, it made her heart pound with uncertainty. If his ex was trying to get back in the picture then it really wouldn't be a good idea for them to pursue anything.

"I should probably head back to my room," Bonnie attempted to scoot out of bed, but Damon wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

"I tell you Katherine ran into my ex who is currently_ living_ in another country, and you bolt."

"I think you should be alone and process what this means for you."

Damon shook his head in the negative. Things were over between him and Tiana. Yeah, there still might be an inkling of love for that girl in his heart, but it had nowhere to go considering they were separated by thousands of miles.

"It doesn't mean anything for me, Bonnie. What was the first thing you felt when you saw Brady?"

Bonnie shifted uncomfortably against Damon who only held her tighter and then nudged his right leg between hers.

"I thought I was having a heart attack, but that's different."

"Yeah, it is, because he hurt you, and what happened with me and my ex didn't fall along those lines, but after all this time it was stick a kick to nuts having Katherine tell me she ran into her."

"If she were to come back," Bonnie chanced asking, "what would you do?"

Damon thought before answering. He had played that scenario over too many times to count, but inevitably he arrived at the same conclusion. He'd ask Tiana to resume what they once had at the drop of the dime. How many times had he _almost_ hopped on a plane to track her down? It had taken him nearly a year to get over her.

"It doesn't matter," he lied because it did matter. "Tiana isn't who I'm interested in," that was the truth.

Bonnie didn't believe him. How could she? She had never been in love before but she was positive that if she had, and her ex came back into the picture it would be real fucking hard to give that person the cold shoulder, and act like he didn't exist.

Essentially, since she got here, Bonnie had Damon all to herself, but now there was the possibility of a threat. She didn't know what to do, how to handle this. She turned over in bed and faced her stepbrother.

"Be honest with me, Damon. What do you want from me?"

That dreaded question, Damon lamented, but knew he owed Bonnie this much. "You know I want to be your friend."

"And?"

"You know I want to eat your pussy."

Bonnie flushed. "And?"

Damon's little soldier was stirring in his shorts the more he thought about what he wanted from Bonnie. He never did anything half-ass so he figured might as well go all out.

"I want us to fuck…_a lot_."

"And?" Bonnie cleared her throat.

Hmm, he hadn't really gotten past the point of just wanting to bed Bonnie and be nice to her on occasion.

"I want to be whatever you need," he improvised.

"And if I need a friend more than I want to fuck?" Bonnie pondered.

Damon smirked. "Then I'm your friend."

"You've been holding back."

"I have," Damon agreed. "After what you told me the last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable and do this," he slipped his warm hand under her shirt and stroked her skin, "and inadvertently cause you to relive moments from your past. I wanted you to come to me when you were ready for more than sleeping in the same bed. What do you want from me?"

Now it was Bonnie's turn to be silent and think of her answer. "I spend half my time being confused. I want us to be friends and then I want more. I want you to kiss me, Damon. I want you to…I want you to eat my…ah…eat me," she stumbled over her words. Damon laughed. "And I thought about us going all the way, but I'm so scared."

Damon ran his fingers along her cheek, "I'm not going to touch you unless that's what you want."

"And that's where I get confused. It's not right I should want you to do those things to me, but I can't help myself. I don't know if I can get past my past, but I really want to. I just don't know how," Bonnie said feeling desperate to be able to start fresh in that area. To get a do over.

Now the pieces of the puzzle were falling together and Damon figured something out. "Is that why you stopped me the other night? You had a flashback?"

Bonnie nodded.

"Okay," Damon said and then rolled out of bed. He turned on the Tiffany lamp on his desk.

Bonnie winced against the muted light and she watched Damon peel off his wife beater. He climbed back into bed, more precisely he climbed over her, and pulled the sheets away.

"Damon?"

He placed his index finger over her mouth. "Keep your eyes open."

Her fight or flight mechanism kicked in and Bonnie was overwhelmed with the urge to take off towards the door, but she was trapped underneath Damon's body. He was staring down at her and she found herself getting caught in the net of his eyes.

"I'm nothing like him. We don't share any physical characteristics. I'm so white I'm part albino." Bonnie giggled and Damon cracked a smile. "My scent is different. Smell me," Damon dropped down to his forearms and arched his neck. Bonnie leaned up and sniffed him, the tip of her nose grazed his skin.

Damon was right; his smell was different, sweeter than Brady's.

"My touch is different from his," the blue-eyed Salvatore continued. Damon recalled the man's hands had been rough, and calloused when they were wrapped around his neck.

His, not so much. He had pretty boy hands. Soft. He ran his hand, using his palm only up Bonnie's leg to her thigh, before switching to use his fingertips as they journeyed back south. Damon listened to the way Bonnie's breathing changed and sometimes hitched, and he could practically hear her heart beating wildly behind her sternum.

He was doing it again. Stirring up a firestorm within her body, igniting her bones, as well as her blood as it rushed every which way through her entire body. By the second her panties were getting damp, wet, and it wouldn't be long before the scent of her arousal would saturate the air. Her eyes began to lower on reflex.

"Eyes open!" Damon commanded. Instantly Bonnie snapped to attention. "You need to see who's making you wet."

Bonnie nodded vigorously, keeping her olive eyes trained on Damon's cerulean orbs.

Taking her left leg, Damon wrapped it around his waist bringing her into perfect alignment with his hips, with his engorged cock that jumped periodically. He thrust forward, brushing Bonnie's ill-protected center and she gasped. Damon did it again, bucking his hips against her sensually.

"Imagine I'm inside of you, Bonnie," he whispered in her ear.

She wanted to cry out that she was tired of the game and wanted the real thing. Bonnie leaned up and latched her mouth to Damon's like a magnet, polarized, and unyielding. She moaned and so did he as he continued to grind against her covered and drenched mound wishing he could rip her shorts and panties off and put the both of them out of their misery. But Damon patiently reminded himself one step at a time.

He got lost in feeling Bonnie slide her tiny hands over his arms, shoulders, and back, before they tunneled through his ink-black hair. She tugged at the unruly strands sending delicious albeit slightly painful tendrils of pleasure through him.

As his tongue dueled with hers, Damon pulled away, and then leaned up altogether giving Bonnie an unrestricted view of his chiseled torso. He grabbed her hands, bit down on his bottom lip and then slid Bonnie's hands down his chest, over his pecks, and the contours of his abs.

"I feel different from him," lower he trailed her fingers until they butted against his rigid and erect phallus.

Bonnie stopped breathing as her hands ran over his hard length prior to cupping his tangerine sized balls.

"Do you want to see it?" Damon asked, eyes drowning in lust.

Mutely Bonnie nodded.

"Pull it out," the teenaged Adonis ordered.

Her hands began trembling as Bonnie reached inside Damon's basketball shorts, wrapped her hand around his member that was hot to the touch and exposed his genitals to her viewing pleasure. He was larger than she expected, thick in girth, his dick riddled with veins that pulsed with life. Unconsciously she licked her lips. Damon groaned and then leaned over Bonnie and took her mouth again in a soul searing kiss that made her drop her propriety and sensibilities at the door.

"Do you want to suck me off?" he asked heart pounding.

Bonnie's mouth went dry and she stuttered, "Y-yes…"

"Not tonight. I'm going to taste you now, Bonnie."

She shook her head. No, he couldn't do that. Brady had been so rough with her when he did that. "Please don't."

"Shush," Damon kissed her sweet lips. "You need to experience this because if you don't you'll never get past this hurdle. You know I would never hurt you, right?"

Bonnie nodded.

"No, say it out loud."

"I know you would never hurt me."

"And I'm not going to hurt you now. I _want _you to feel good. That's all I care about, Bonnie. I'm not doing this to hurt you. Do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Yes," she heaved.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Please."

"Then trust me," was the last thing Damon said as he kissed a piping hot trail down the center of her body. He didn't pay homage to her breasts like he did the last time. He only had one destination in mind. As soon as his lips brushed the waistband of her shorts, Damon curled his fingers into the band and pulled her shorts down her legs. Her panties followed next, and for just a moment Damon stared blatantly at her exposed crotch.

Bonnie's legs were trembling and trembled even more the second Damon pushed her knees apart and then lowered himself until his nose was only an inch away from her dripping wet twat. With his eyes on her, he kissed the tight springy curls that covered her sex, and then his tongue slid out and made contact with her labia.

Her back arched off the bed, eyes to the ceiling, and Bonnie forgot how to breathe. His fingers prodded her, and Bonnie tensed but relaxed the minute Damon sucked her pearl into his mouth and repeatedly flicked his tongue over her clit.

The way Bonnie tasted was nearly indescribable to Damon, but that wasn't nearly as important or as erotic as watching her as she writhed and undulated against the bed, her erect nipples pointing towards the sky. Her fingernails dug into his arms nearly drawing blood. Damon spelled Italian phrases with his tongue, wrote the Declaration of Independence with his mouth as he greedily slurped up Bonnie's juices until his throat and tongue were nicely lubricated.

He was harder than a fucking brick so he slipped one hand between the bed and his body and began to stroke himself.

Bonnie felt her end coming, much to her chagrin, but Damon's tongue was so inquisitive, so delicate that she couldn't hold off for much longer. He hadn't mistaken her clit for a chew toy, and hadn't stabbed her with his fingers at a bruising pace. He handled her like a food connoisseur tasting a rare delicacy. Tears leaked from her eyes, and made her breath come out in spurts.

Damon snuck a large hand under her shirt, palmed her breast, before tweaking, twisting and pulling her nipple.

"I'm coming," her eyes snapped opened and she rose on her elbows to watch Damon as he continued to devour her with his mouth doubling up his efforts. He dipped his tongue as far into her as he could get and then pinched her clit between two fingers.

That had been her undoing.

Bonnie screamed and saw herself shatter like glass, and hearing that piercing sound made spurts of cum to shoot out in jets against the sheets as Damon rubbed himself until he was empty.

Bonnie couldn't hear anything since sound was muffled by the blood that pooled into her ears. Her chest rose and fell almost in rhythm with the beating of her heart. Bonnie's legs flopped down on the bed; her entire body completely boneless and lax.

Damon gave Bonnie one final, long lick beginning with the crack of her ass up to her clit where he circled it before kissing it nosily.

The satiated young woman attempted to laugh but aftershocks jolted her body, and her eyes felt heavier than ever.

Lying down beside her, Damon covered them up with the sheets, and then positioned Bonnie until her head was on his chest.

Using what energy she had left, Bonnie straddled Damon and kissed him full on the mouth, tasting herself. "Thank you," she whispered.

Damon grinned and then spanked her ass. Bonnie yelped, but then snuggled closer. "I can wake you up like that every morning if you want to me to."

Bonnie yawned. "Okay."

"Okay?"

The incoherent girl mumbled something and it wasn't long before she was sleeping. Damon snorted then groaned once he realized he forgot to put Bonnie's shorts back on, which meant she was naked from the waist down, and her juices were currently wetting his stomach.

"Well, at least one of us is going to get a peaceful night of sleep," Damon complained.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Well, not much to say after this. Bonnie's birthday is coming up and well, what might Damon have planned for his sister? Brady is on the run, Damon is planning something, the newlyweds have returned, and Katherine has just thrown a monkey wrench into the mix. How will this all pan out? Stay tuned. Until next time, love you guys!**


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